#and your hair smells like booze and cigarette smoke

[iwilltotallyprotectyou]

[moonstruckme]

could i request poly!wolfstar or poly!jily where they’re pursuing reader and reader accidentally matches with them (like matching costumes) at a halloween party?

i think the teasing and flirting would be so cute!! 🥰

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of alcohol, smoking, Sirius makes lame and humorously objectifying jokes

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You arrive to the party late, the Gryffindor common room already bustling by the time you and your friends have finished doing your last-minute costume alterations. There are glowing pumpkins floating on the ceiling, someone has charmed the room so that a thick layer of fog drifts along the floor, and the air already smells slightly of booze and cigarette smoke. 

You lose Lily’s attention immediately, but that’s to be expected. You’re more than accustomed by now to her searching for her boyfriend whenever you enter a room. What’s unexpected, however, is her reaction when she finds him.

“Uh oh.” 

“Uh oh?” You look at her, following her gaze to the couch across the room. “Oh. Oh, no.” 

Lily laughs. “It sort of seems like fate, doesn’t it? I think it’s sweet.” 

Sitting on their usual couch are the marauders. James, predictably, is wearing a costume matching Lily’s; they’ve both come as cowboys. Unfortunately, Sirius and Remus are sitting next to him dressed as pirates. 

You’re also dressed as a pirate. 

“It’s not sweet,” you moan. “If I go back up, do you think Marlene will make me some of her fake blood? I can change and be a vampire instead.” 

Lily hums. “Think it’s too late for that, babe.” 

She’s looking back towards the couch, where the boys have already caught sight of the pair of you. Sirius is beaming something atrocious, and even Remus looks amused while his boyfriend waves you over exuberantly. 

Lily takes your hand in hers, tugging you with her as she goes to them. 

“Howdy, darlin’.” James puts on an exaggerated southern drawl as you approach, opening his arms to his girlfriend. 

“My, my,” says Sirius as you sit between him and Lily, “don’t you look nice.” 

You ignore the warmth that brings to your face. “The point wasn’t really to look nice.” 

Your costume is thrown together from things you already had, the only thing that really distinguishes you as a pirate being the bandana you’ve tied around your head. Remus appears to have gone a similar route, although the white shirt he’s tucked into his pants looks a bit more on-theme than yours and he’s clearly been forced to wear an eye patch which is currently flipped up so that it’s not covering anything. Sirius, of course, does nothing halfway. He’s wearing a billowy black top that’s been unbuttoned nearly to his navel, more belts and buckles than you knew one person could have, and a captain’s hat he surely bought just for the occasion. Altogether, you make a fairly fearsome group. 

“Not sure you can help it, gorgeous.” Sirius winks at you. “You always look nice. Did you plant a spy to find out what you needed to wear to match us, then?” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I should probably be asking you that.” 

“Must’ve just been fate,” Sirius says. It’s so close to what Lily said that your cheeks blaze, but you also don’t know if you quite believe him. Remus, too, turns to give his boyfriend a questioning look. 

Sirius catches it and scoffs, holding up his hands. “I didn’t! Honestly.” 

Remus nods, appeased. In a less booming voice than his boyfriend’s, he tells you, “You do look very nice.” 

“Thanks.” You catch yourself fingering the ends of your hair like a nervous schoolgirl and tuck your hands underneath your thighs. “So do both of you.” 

Sirius grins knowingly, and you have to fight the urge to shove your face into Lily’s shoulder for refuge. He knows as well as you do that for all of his brazen flirting, it’s Remus’ quiet sincerity that flusters you the most. You’re not sure when it started, exactly, but it’s been clear for some time now that both boys are interested in you. You’re not sure in what capacity—they could want to take you to bed for one night, integrate you into their relationship, or anything in between—but as of yet you’ve neither encouraged nor discouraged their advances. 

“Thanks, dollface.” Sirius gives a winsome crack of a smile. “You know, I’ve already acquired some booty, but I wouldn’t mind winning some more.” 

“Sirius…” Remus groans.

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Some what?” 

“You know, like pirate’s loot? My booty.” Sirius sidles closer to Remus, giving his thigh a solid pat. 

Remus’ eyes narrow. “I will leave you here and go back upstairs right now.” It sounds as though this is not the first time this has been threatened. 

“I worked hard for it!” Sirius defends himself. 

You cover your mouth against an appalled giggle. “It?” 

“I toiled, and I fought, and I had to battle many other fearsome ships! It’s mine.” 

“Remus,” you stage whisper, “blink twice if you need help.” 

Remus’ smile blooms, but when he starts to blink Sirius objects, “Oi!” 

“No,” you correct him, “you’re supposed to say ‘arr.’”

Sirius is grinning again, too, clearly chuffed that you’re joking around with them even if it is at his expense. “If I say ‘arr,’ you’ll agree to be my second booty for the rest of the night?” 

“I won’t make any promises. But it would be persuasive.” 

He growls enthusiastically, “Arrrrgh!” and slams his fist down on the table. The sound it makes is enough to tear James and Lily’s attention away from each other. 

“Merlin,” says James. “Did’ya hurt yourself there, Pads?” 

“No,” Sirius replies, but he gives his hand a little shake. 

Remus, rolling his eyes, takes it and kisses the side. He brings it into his lap for safekeeping. Your heart gives a painful little throb. 

You must have some stupid lovestruck look on your face, because Lily peers around James to see you better, a smile playing on her lips. She knows about your crushes on the two boys, just as well as she knows that you haven’t decided what to do about them yet. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to help you along. 

“Come on,” she says to James, standing and taking him with her. “Let’s dance, and I’ll let you pretend to lasso me.” 

James beams. “Yes!” 

You watch them go while Sirius seizes the opportunity to move to your other side, the three of you taking up the entirety of the couch. 

“Phew,” he sighs, swinging his feet over the armrest. 

“You may want to take your legs out of the fog,” Remus suggests, also using the new space to bring his feet onto the couch. “It gets sticky after a while.” 

You frown but do as he says, pulling your feet from your shoes so that only your socks are on the couch. And sure enough, when you touch a finger to your ankle it feels like there’s an odd sort of coating over it. 

“I thought it was just fog,” you say. 

“It was supposed to be,” agrees Sirius, “but James entrusted the task of making it to Marlene, and there are some who think she might’ve laced it with some sort of drink.” 

“I’m some,” Remus owns. 

You smile. “So is the point that you should be able to…drink the fog?”

“No clue.” Sirius leans over the edge of the couch. “Let’s find out.” 

“Sirius, no,” Remus says weakly, trailing off when it’s clear the other boy won’t be deterred. You both watch as he sucks in what fog he can, closing his mouth around it. “That’s disgusting, everyone’s been walking around in it.” 

“I think it might be brandy,” Sirius muses. “It’s faint, though.” 

Remus frowns. “I’m not kissing you until you brush your teeth.” 

Sirius grins. “Yes, you are.” 

“We’ll see, won’t we?” 

“Wouldn’t you rather just get your own drink?” you ask Sirius. “Rather than sampling the faint traces of brandy that have been touched by other people’s shoes, I mean.” 

“Oh, rest assured, gorgeous, I’m all covered.” Sirius picks a cup up from the table. He seems to notice at the same moment that you don’t have a cup of your own. “Would you like one, though?” 

You glance to the table cluttered with alcohol and mixers, a throng of students clustered around it. “I’ll get one in a bit.” 

“Let me.” Sirius stands. He edges around the table, stopping to pinch your chin affectionately and give his boyfriend a kiss. “Rem, my love, keep her company, would you?” 

“You don’t have to,” you object. “I can get it.” 

“No, don’t be ridiculous. A pirate has to take care of his booty, hasn’t he?” 

“I never agreed to that!” you call after him. In a quieter voice, you add, “And I don’t think that’s how the relationship between a pirate and their booty works.” 

“Let him go,” Remus advises you. You startle a bit when his hand finds your knee, resting there in fond commiseration. “If he’s going to degrade us like this, he can at least bring us drinks.” 

You feel your lips tilt. “Are you really going to let him call you his booty all night?” 

“Probably.” Remus shrugs, his eyes finding his boyfriend across the room. “Anyway, it’s nice not to be alone in it. As far as he’s concerned, you’re already his as well.”

[hairmetal666]

It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

[sadhours]

dirty laundry

billy hargrove x fem!reader

masterlist • requests open

cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy

🧡🧡🧡🧡

it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.

“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.

you frown, “i like don henley.”

your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.

“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.

“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”

there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”

“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”

billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”

“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.

he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.

once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.

he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.

“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”

you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.

“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”

you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.

“better?”

you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”

“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”

billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.

Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.

“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.

“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.

“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”

you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.

billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”

his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.

he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.

you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.

“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.

“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”

“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.

he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.

once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.

your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.

“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”

you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.

it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.

“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”

“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.

“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”

that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.

“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”

he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.

he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.

“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: To let off steam after a long day, you and Ace go to a bar. When he starts feeling thirsty and no amount of liquor will help, will he be able to hold himself back? ~1.5k words. Please read CW!

CW: Out of character Ace (he would never act like this fr). Afab reader w/gendered pet names. DUBC0N (they’re drunk & he’s coercive), this is in public!

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Another long day at sea. Battles and skirmishes. Chores and cleaning.

When days got like this, when the hours felt infinite and the to-do list felt long and insurmountable, Ace was always there for you.

This week had been a particularly rough one, but, thankfully, the ship docked at an island, and you had free time—a welcome reprieve from the dreary passage of countless days on the sea.

To let off some steam, you went to a bar with Ace. It was large, exceedingly dark, everything was made of wood and tin. When you first got there, it wasn’t that crowded but as the hours passed, the throng of people got ridiculous. They were rowdy, plastered, and loud. It smelled like alcohol and sweat.

The pair of you were four or five drinks in—you had long since lost count, but you were matching drinks. Ace’s face was ruddy and flushed from the alcohol, his freckles winked any time his smile scrunched his nose a bit, and his dark hair got a little more messed up every time he ran his hands through it.

You were both drunk. Your limbs felt warm and loose, Ace’s presence was comforting and sweet, and you felt like you could just melt into him.

Leaning on a brick wall in a far corner of the bar, he was next to you, grinning that sweet smile and nursing his drink. Was it his fifth? He couldn’t remember.

You started the night in a booth but quickly got usurped when you had gotten up to order another round the bar. Rookie mistake. So, you were relegated to the corner.

But that was just fine for Ace. His eyes trailed across you from top to bottom while you giggled at something he said, distracted and beaming. Your cheeks were dusted with pink blush, your lips curled in that smile that made his heart flip, he loved your side profile, your hair, your neck, shoulders, chest…

He realized far too late that he was hard. Staring at your for too long occasionally had this result. But this was a lightning-fast record. You could tell that he was feeling some sort of way when you turned your head and met his flashing eyes.

“Fuck, you look good.” Ace smiled, downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, and placed his empty cup on a table nearby. Returning to you, he braced a hand on the brick wall next to your head and leaned over you, effectively caging you in.

“You drive me crazy. C’mere.” He grabbed your chin lightly and guided your lips to his, pressing softly. His hand cupped your cheek.

His kisses tasted like booze and cigarettes. Yours were the same for him. It didn’t matter. Honestly, for Ace, it added to the effect. He was voraciously horny, like something possessed him. The kisses got sloppy immediately, greedy and hungry. You threw an arm around his neck and leaned in further. You could feel his erection.

His thick, rough fingers crept down from your cheek and passed down your neck, clavicles, breasts, and ribs… coming to rest on top of your core, over your pants.

Your breath hitched. “Ace, what are you doing? We’re in public.”

He turned his head and scanned the huge room. No one was paying attention. The dark space was packed to the brim, the music was loud, the crowd of people shouted, danced, shifted, surged. Smoke made the air slightly hazy.  

“No one’s looking, baby.” He cooed in your ear and it sent goosebumps along your skin. The alcohol was working—you were already starting to feel warmth pool in your stomach from the feeling of his big hand just resting like that.

His hand squeezed over your core and you inhaled sharply. “Ace, someone’s gonna see.”

“No one’s gonna see, sweetheart. C’mon. Can’t you let me touch you a little?” He placed a kiss on your neck.

“Fuck,” you whined as his fingers crept upwards. He slid his hand down the front of your pants, under your underwear. “Ace, fuck.”

“C’mon, baby. Just let me.” His voice melted in your ear like honey. It went straight to the valley between your thighs.

He sucked a harsh hickey onto your neck and started to move his fingers slowly, eliciting a soft whine from you that made his cock twitch. You could tell he was using his devil fruit powers to warm his fingers up, and it felt heavenly.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” Ace purred and looked down to admire the sight of his hand stuffed down the front of your pants.

He was right—no one was paying attention. The corner you were in was as secluded as possible, but the crowd was still huge and unruly. It was dark, dimly lit and grimy. It smelled like liquor and sweat, the epitome of a dive bar. Not necessarily romantic in any sense but being in public with Ace touching you so intimately made the blood rush to your head.

As his fingers moved back and forth, your clit started to throb and tingle. He knew how to use his hands. It felt too good to tell him to stop.

He circled your clit with his middle finger and ring fingers, passing them downwards and back up to keep petting your sensitive bud with your own slick.

“Starting to get wet already, honey?” His voice was deep and smooth in your ear, and you whimpered. You could feel his hot breath tickle your skin.

“Fuck, Ace, that feels good.”

“I know it does. God, you're so sweet I just can't stop.” He kissed your neck again and bit it softly. He applied more pressure to your clit, and you let out a stifled whine as your hips bucked.

His voice was dripping with lust and alcohol. It added to your intoxication—everything buzzed. You felt light, your core was throbbing, you were saturating your panties and making a mess out of Ace’s fingers.

A flash of reason burst through your mind—what if someone was watching? You grabbed his wrist tried to hold it still for a second, to no avail. His fingers slowed but didn't stop completely.

“A-ace, please. Wait. What if people are w-watch—fuck—watching?”

He spoke into your ear again and his voice was hushed and restrained. “Doesn’t that make it feel even better, baby?”

He had a point. The thrill aroused you even more; your inebriation and desire felt more intense paired with the idea that you were doing something you shouldn’t, that you were doing something wrong, and the prospect that someone could be watching without you realizing. You were in public, after all.

You released Ace’s wrist with a whimper, and his fingers picked up the pace again. “Fuck, Ace. Fuck, fuck, it feels too good.”

“God, you’re so wet for me.” He angled his hand and slipped a finger into you. You moaned louder than you should have, but a bar fight broke out in the distance and covered up the lewd sound.

Ace dragged his finger in and out, stoking pleasure inside of you. Your eyes were screwed shut and you were biting your lip. It was taking everything to not start whining and moaning at full volume right now. It felt too good to be in public.

Another finger slid into you. He curled and hooked them, searching for your sensitive, gooey spot. When he found it, he prodded on it, drew circles around it, massaged it. You were biting your lip so hard you thought it was about to start bleeding.

“Just let out those pretty sounds, angel. No one’s going to hear them.” His fingers pressed down hard on your g-spot. An audible, obscene gasp erupted from your lips and your eyes shot open.

“Ace—I can’t do it anymore, ‘m gonna cum,” you whispered and he locked eyes with you, smiling. “Feels too good, Ace.”

“That’s alright, sugar. Cum on my fingers. Maybe someone will see how good I make you feel.”

Your orgasm crashed on you quickly and abruptly. Your thighs shook and you grabbed his wrist, holding it so tightly that it hurt. He watched you cum with a grin.

Tensing up, you almost doubled over in bliss and your mind went blank. Another moan escaped your throat and your eyes rolled back in your head. Did anyone hear that?

It felt filthy to cum on Ace’s fingers in the back corner of some seedy bar, surrounded by strangers while you were both drunk as fuck. But goddamn, his fingers and that orgasm felt unreal.

“Fuck, you’re hot. Let’s go to the bathroom, princess. I want you.”

thanks for reading!! :3 I hope u liked it!

here's my masterlist and my october posting schedule!

i'm going to be posting every day from now until halloween!

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[how-serene]

In Your Eyes

Pairing - Dwayne (Lost Boys) x Neutral!Reader

Summary - A night on the boardwalk with Dwayne.

Word Count - 775

Warnings - fluff, mentions of smoking, no use of y/n, pet names

A/N - Billy Wirth, you absolute beauty.

Santa Carla’s cool breeze washed over your face. Behind you, the shrieks and laughter of friends broke through the crashing of the waves. They danced wildly around a bonfire, Mötley Crüe booming through a radio speaker. Despite the night bringing a cold chill, hoards of people still strolled along the boardwalk. Even from your place on the pier, you could feel the public’s infectious excitement. 

You leaned against the rickety railing, a cigarette held loosely between your fingers. Summer’s full moon hung high, reflecting off of the rippling waves of the water. Stars blinked down at you, against the sky’s black canvas. The pungent smell of the ocean invaded your airways, mixing with the bitter smoke. 

A pair of leather cladded arms snaked around your waist, startling you. 

“Hey, baby,” Dwayne purred, breath fanning against your ear. His hands traveled down to rest on your hips, squeezing at the flesh. 

“You’re late,” you pointed out, fighting back a grin. 

He merely hummed at your words, instead choosing to leave faint kisses on your shoulder. Even through the thick fabric of your shirt, his lips still managed to leave your skin buzzing.

Dwayne trailed his lips up, til he met the shell of your ear again. His rough hands turned you to properly face him, the railing pressed into your back. 

“Got caught up with something,” he explained, dark eyes shining down at you. 

From the faint ruby stain in the corner of his lip, you understood very quickly what that something was. You brought your thumb up, to swipe at the red smudge. The corner of his lip quirked up, carefully watching your movement. 

“You’re cold,” he noticed, leaning into your touch. 

“”The pier isn’t exactly the warmest place on earth.” 

“How long have you been waiting?” 

“Thirty minutes, give or take.” You shrugged, letting your hand fall back down to your side. 

Dwayne sighed, dark brown eyes drifting past you to stare out at the ocean waves. The wind had picked up, now faintly brushing against his thick black hair. He seemed lost, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts you couldn’t begin to decipher. 

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, effectively getting his attention. His eyes softened, sweeping over you. 

“Wanna know what’s been on my mind all night?” You asked, brushing the tip of your nose against his. Dwayne’s sweet mouth was only centimeters away from yours. His hands slipped up the back of your shirt, the cool silver rings he wore ghosting over the skin.

“What is it, doll?” he muttered, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. Patiently waiting for you to speak. His unshaven stubble scraped against your chin.

You planted a firm kiss on his cheek, before pulling back. 

“Winning that giant stuffed panda I saw near the balloon darts.” 

The pier was alive, as bright neon lights illuminated the boardwalk. The flood of patrons rushed past you, of kids dragging their parents by the cuff of their sleeves, or friends huddled together like packs of wolves. All vying for that last ride on the Ferris wheel, or an overpriced corndog before the park closed for the night. 

You walked, with Dwayne’s arm slung over your shoulders, and a stuffed Panda lovingly held in your hands. 

“Since when were you so good at darts, mister?”

Dwayne sheepishly smiled, glancing down at you, “Just one of my many talents.” 

You snorted, bumping your hip with his. It was odd, at times you realized. Dwayne smelled of cigarettes, and cheap booze most likely snagged from the victims of bonfire parties. His mouth tasted of mint, and nicotine when he would kiss you. There was always something beyond it though, a metallic taste your mind would block out before you could process it. 

Even though you knew. 

He appeared so human at times, it knocked you back. It was almost easy to brush off the strange coolness of his skin, or the carnivorous look in his features when a hoard of people would pass by you two. 

Then there were moments when the human-like quality of Dwayne overshadowed everything else. Moment’s like now, when he pressed you into his side, grinning as he peppered kisses over your hairline. You giggled, leaning back away from him, your heart thudding in your chest. Up ahead, his pack was gathered around a picnic-table, lazily leaning against it. Their ravenous gaze met yours, locked on your approaching form. Marko, with an infectious toothy smile and unkempt golden hair, waved at you. Dwayne grumbled, muttering something under his breath.

You were reminded that monsters lurked on every corner. 

In Santa Carla, at least. 

[musouie]

thinking about creepy coworker!johnny who aggressively stares you down, the new hire at the pub, all hungry-eyed and intense. it causes your hair to stand on end, gooseflesh to ripple across your skin, and though a coworker reassures you “he’s just like that with everyone new”, something about that thought doesn’t quell your nerves at all; doesn’t assuage your fear. instead, a perpetual terror settles.

creepy coworker!johnny, who always seems to “accidentally” touch you. whether it’s when he squeezes past you to refill a drink at the end of the bar, grunting as his pelvis grazes your backside, meaty paws briefly gripping your hips; or when he saddles up beside you and reaches beneath the counter in pursuit of “something”, forearm brushing against your thigh, warm and firm and coarse with wiry hair.

creepy coworker!johnny, who eventually breaks his silence when he stumbles upon you smoking in the alley behind the pub, a cigarette of his own clasped between his lips, unlit and dangling haplessly. you try not to flinch as he trudges towards you, smelling of musk and sweat and booze, eyes fixed on your mouth. but your efforts fail when he settles beside you:

“cannae bum yer light?” he nods to said lighter, gripped tightly between your fingers. 

you stare at him owlishly, registering bit by bit that he was talking… to you. you nod dumbly, “yeah, of course” slipping past your lips as you fumble with the light, clumsily extending it in an unfurled palm.

he grins, a grotesque thing that’d be charming if it weren’t for the eerie curl to it, wide and cheshire-like. fat fingers reach for the light, grazing against yours for far too long, wrapping around your hand as he drags it from your grasp.“thanks, bonnie.” 

he lights it right there, eyes on you the entire time, chest so close that you could feel the warmth from it. when he’s done, he flips it shut and tucks it within the breast-pocket of your uniform before patting your chest. “i owe ya’.”

(he makes it up to you by visiting your house the following week, address found via peeking at your files, and going through your closets and dressers and rearranging everything neatly while you’re out (but not without pocketing a lace panty or two for safekeeping.))

masterlist

[tojipie]

Toji’s first time at the club with you after he gets out of prison?

prison bf series linked here !

content: smoking, alc

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toji had missed a lot of things besides you during his time in the slammer.

car rides, casinos, weed, movie theaters, the whole 9 yards really. but if you held a gun to your boyfriends head and asked him what he missed the most? he might just slip and say it was booze.

toji sits on one of the leather couches in your private section, rolling his glass in salt before filling it with a drink you can’t pronounce. beside him stand 2 bar carts packed to the brim with everything he’d need to get shitfaced, courtesy of the club’s owner who seemed to owe him more than a few favors.

you see his eyes physically flutter back into his skull when he takes his first sip, savoring the tart liquid as it flowed over the salted rim and down his throat.

long behind were the days of sneaking sketchy prison hooch and stale cigarettes. the late nights you sit quietly across from him, watching him enjoy himself with a soft smile.

“feel good?” you ask with a giggle, taking a chaste sip of your own drink.

the older man nods, running a shaky hand through his hair like he almost can’t believe he’s got all this alcohol to himself.

“c’mere.” he says, motioning towards himself with two fingers. you set your drink down and sink down next to him, intertwining your legs. the older man traces circles into the skin of your thigh while he savors his liquor.

“you wanna go dance, pretty?” he asks, reaching down to lightly massage the skin of your calf.

you think it over a little before grabbing his hand to lead him to the dance floor, you pause when he doesn’t budge.

toji chuckles quietly, throwing back a shot before explaining himself.

“without me i meant.” he laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “i’ve got a few bottles to finish off, right? go make friends.”

you debate over leaving your boyfriend to his own devices, could a 30 year old man fresh out of prison really be left alone with a week’s worth of booze? no, probably not. your suspicions are confirmed as soon as you see him flick a lighter in your peripherals.

“hey!” you chastise, waving the flame out with your hand. “no smoking inside.”

the cigarette in his mouth droops as he looks up at you, clearly unamused.

“since when was that a rule.” he mumbles, throwing the cig on the table in front of him.

“i can handle you drunk, but i honestly can’t handle you drunk and smelling like tobacco.” you chastise, pressing a kiss to his forehead to soften the blow.

“you’re on babysitting duty then.” he muses, voice already starting to slur. “y’r gonna watch me polish these bottles off n’ as soon as i’m done we’re gonna go dance, ok?”

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taglist ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko

[star2fishmeg]

ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ

[3.3k]

Pairing: Song Mingi x afab!reader

Summary: mingi and y/n discover that you can still relight candles once the flame flickers out...even at sweaty crummy fratty parties

Warnings: 18+ smut, university!au, fratboy!Mingi, angst, comfort, inaccurate frat description probs, exes to lovers, happy end, drugs (weed), alcohol, mingi and reader are in their 20s, making out, grinding, thigh riding, swearing

Authors Note: I remembered I never posted this fic from Oct '23 so here's the last mingi fic for a while. Ngl if one half of this is better than the other it's bc the first half was written last year. This is a work of fiction, the activities involved are fictional and none of what the boys are doing is real or based on real events.

Request: none!

♫ party monster - the weeknd

It wasn’t her first time attending one of the boys’ parties, she’d been going since they joined the university. It was never any different though, the same music, the same games, rarely any new faces but when you’ve got alcohol in your system you never notice anyway. She completely understood why people loved the parties though, after a week of uni it was the one place for some people to escape to an entirely different world, each room had its vibe and you just gravitated to yours. Or chameleon through them all, which is what she did with her friends because they liked to make the most of a potentially messy night.

Getting into the parties was the hard part, they were picky due to their seniors mentoring. You had to be directly invited, and luckily, she was. Growing up with Yunho and Mingi wasn’t so bad after all, they were the ones to thank for the inclusion, but she got on with the others just as well.

Y/n sat outside in one of the plastic garden chairs, also known as Yeosang’s smoke circle. Yeosang was serenity in human form, his personality was on the quieter side, and he’d recently dyed his hair a neon green after losing a bet but looks could be deceiving, he had a notorious streak for coming out with the most outrageous sentences and shots targeted at Wooyoung. Despite his company, she hadn’t taken a drag of anything. It’s not that y/n disliked the vibe, she very much cherished it, despite the face of thunder she donned at that moment, swirling the booze in her cup. Hand rested under chin, elbow on her knee while this girl she – and the others – had never seen before in her life complained about the noise and smell protruding from the house. The girl being oblivious to the side-eyes, and the sweet aroma of weed and suffocating fumes of cigarettes indicated that none of them were listening to anything she was rambling on about. Yeosang took a heavy drag from his joint, giving y/n a pained look.

“If you hate it so much, fucking leave.” She spat, throwing the rest of her drink over her before walking inside, listening to the circle giggle and the girl yell out ‘bitch!’.

Sliding the back door open and stepping in, her senses were violently hit by the living room’s blaring music, which she liked to call the club zone. It’s where the speakers were located, sofas moved to the sides to create a dance floor and where you’d find Wooyoung and Mingi bouncing around in the ambient lighting. That room moved in slow motion, and very much did for y/n when she weaved her way through it to the kitchen, which was quieter, with an orange lowlight and the island littered with cups and various bottles and pleasantly, a Yunho blissfully pouring himself another cup of beer with rosy cheeks.

“Hey, n/n!” he piped, taking a sip from his cup before leaning his hip against the counter, “You okay?”

She nodded with a small smile, standing next to him, “Refilling. Threw mine over sourpuss over there.” She pointed out the kitchen window, to the girl who had moved from Yeosang to another group of people, presumably still complaining but now about the fact y/n had thrown cider over her. Yunho chuckled, it being contagious until both were releasing tipsy giggles while sipping fresh drinks. Yunho was tall, reaching over six feet and loomed over her, his eyes almost puppy-like and soft.

“Never seen her before, and neither I nor Mingi invited her, and going by Yeo’s face, he didn’t.” He joked, watching the rest of the people outside.

“Nah, Yeo didn’t. He wanted me to get rid of her. You think San or Woo did? Joong’s definitely out of the picture, I’ve seen him actively avoid her. Speaking of, where is Joong?”

Yunho pointed to the games room, which you could just about see from the kitchen window. It was more like an old garage they’d turned into a games room with a singular window. From where they stood, Jongho’s figure moved past it.

“In there with Jongho. Mr. I-won’t-drink-tonight pre’d too hard and got roped into beer pong from the beginning. Jongho’s being relentless, it’s nice seeing him have fun.”

“Yeah, and fucking hilarious seeing Joong on the ropes. Thank God it’s Sunday he’ll be hungover on.”

In what was supposed to be a quick refill turned into shots with Yunho and because of that decision, y/n found herself being twirled by him on the ‘dance floor’. The living room was always hot, sweaty, drunk bodies bumping and grinding into each other, music so loud her ears just blocked it into a silence, and it was just her in the moment, in another headspace with whatever drink flowing in her system. Her friends were long gone, which was fine, they’d been in that house before, they knew most of the people there and had their ‘if lost go here’ areas. Besides, Yunho wouldn’t let anything happen to y/n, they had a solid friendship, a siblingship at most.

Eyes bored into the back of her head, she felt the presence too well, it was too familiar. Mingi, slouched on one of the sofas with his legs spread and eyes squinting a primal gaze, watching her every move. His hands loosely sat on his thighs, as if he was giving the memo that he was not anyone’s seat, not that he ever sat down enough for girls to drape themselves over him. But this time he sat to watch.

Yunho leant into her ear, “I’m gonna spin us, I can feel daggers into my soul right now.” And he did casually, twirling her again to switch places. Y/n’s eyes briefly fell into Mingi’s trap, a couple of seconds feeling like an eternity again when falling into his eyes. She missed it. Missed the butterflies of drowning in someone, getting lost peacefully, and having someone feel so passionate about her.

“Yunho, what do I do? He’s getting up, it’s been so long-“ she stammered, eyes widening upon catching a glance of Mingi weaving through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tried taking his attention with the gaze of a predator hunting its prey. Yunho giggled, slipping away.

For a split second, she was alone, watching the room sway around her and a white noise fill her ears, body numb as the world fell into slow motion. The way he moved with his confidence, chest out and eyesight on her, no smile. Cheap disco lights doing him too much justice, the blue haze bouncing off his cheekbones, a soft glint in his eyes and sparkle bouncing off the chain that sat sound on his collarbone. Y/n’s eyes flickered his stature, up and down, from his t-shirt that wrapped snug around his chest down to his jeans that hung off his hips in a way that shouldn’t have flipped her stomach the way it did. She swallowed, a thumping in her chest and head still in a slow pace until her hips were firmly gripped in large palms, hot breath in her space and his eyes softening as they caught hers. As if by default, she placed her hands on his chest – intimate but cautious and prepared to reject him – and his lips found their way to her ear.

“You still light up the room.” His voice was deeper than the last time he’d whispered his sins in her ears. Not a nibble, not a kiss, no unasked-for contact. Just like back then. Just two bodies swaying in a rhythm in comfort.

“Were you jealous?”

“…maybe. Haven’t seen you in a while, thought you were avoiding me. Then I see you cosied up with my best friend, what man wouldn’t be?”

“And why would I avoid you?” Her questions lingered in the thick air. Tingles ran through her nerves as Mingi’s thumbs traced small circles over the fabric of her shorts, his favourite denim shorts that sent him back to adolescent afternoons in the summer, where they drank cheap beer at family barbecues. One hand slid itself over the curve of her spine until it drew itself away and cupped her jaw gently, holding her like his precious treasure, like she was his again. Nuzzling into his palm, she looped one finger under his necklace, toying with it until their eyes met once again. Mingi’s breath hitched, air knocked from his lungs under the familiarity of the gesture.

“Come, I want you to myself tonight.” The rumble of his voice vibrated her fingertips, flushing heat down her body and hitting her pussy all over again. His voice was too sexy to think straight, the determination that ran through his eyes bringing back a reason why she loved him in the first place. Y/n nodded, taking his hand on her cheek into her own and letting the man guide her through the bodies and towards the staircase.

People go through phases as they grow older, but the way Mingi’s room still had his favourite music producer’s posters stuck over his walls gave his space a warmth to it. It did smell like Lynx Africa, it still seemed to have curtains drawn shut and although they sat against the headboard on unmade grey sheets, it all still screamed Mingi. Their shoes lay scattered on the floor, the music from downstairs muffled in the silence as their thighs pressed together and hands awkwardly played with their clothing.

Mingi’s eyes softly gazed down at her features, at her eyelashes she always complained about, down her nose bridge to her pouted lips he’d first kissed at her best friend’s birthday when they were sixteen.

Her breath rattled, voice deeper in the silence, “I missed you, y’know.” His gaze remained on her face, as he’d never seen anything as beautiful since last seeing her. Y/n’s cheeks flushed, unbeknownst under the lowlight but regardless her chest swelled, like a hole inside her started patching itself together suddenly.

Y/n’s head hesitantly turned to look up at him, taken aback when her eyes met his so soon, noses barely touching. She licked her lips, “Me too. My friends talked so much shit for ages, but I had nothing bad to say about you,” she chuckled with a slight smirk, “I think they were just rooting for us deep down and hurting more than we were.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” he murmured, shifting slightly to face her more, shoulder leaning on the headboard.

She shifted with him, facing him too but still with a closeness that they could hear even a whisper from each other. Her hand slid to his, her fingers tracing over his chunky rings, “We were sixteen-seventeen. At the time we didn’t even know which university we wanted to go to, we didn’t know anything.” Her heart pulsed in her chest, if it weren’t for the volume downstairs she was sure he would hear it. Mingi’s throat felt dry, a restless feeling in his legs as the soft touches of her fingers on his skin lit the fireworks in his stomach.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her body into his side while she cosied up onto his chest, his hand finding home on her hip. She slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. It felt wrong, so wrong to be cuddled up with an ex-boyfriend, but at the same time, the comfort of having heartbeats fall in sync spoke more words than she ever could.

“I don’t regret dating you,” she whispered, taking in a whiff of his cologne and she smiled, even after all those years, he never changed. “Sometimes I wish we hadn’t called it off, I really liked you.”

His grip pulled her tighter into his body, “I know. I hate my younger self. You were the best girlfriend anyone could’ve asked for, so attentive and thoughtful, you were full of so much love. And I made you fucking cry, and then people wouldn’t look at me and my friends got involved when they shouldn’t have. And we never spoke again.” The words tumbled from his mouth and breathing became shaky. The exact scene of the moment once again replayed in his head, the exact moment he saw her eyes gloss over and her lip tremor on a Friday afternoon in mid-November when they were seventeen. Now, it was him whose eyes watered, his free hand gently holding her cheek as she relaxed into his palm. God, it felt so wrong, it’d been so long and here they were, acting as if no time had passed at all.

“Min…”

“I cried that night. Cried like a baby to my mum about what I did. I’ve regretted it ever since…” He leant in, drawing their faces closer, lips ghosting. Y/n’s tummy flipped, tongue darting to moisten her lips. His eyes flickered to her lips, her eyes boring into his, waiting for his decision. Her hand (the one not gripping his), hooked a finger around his chain roughly, pulling him close and closing the ever-long space between them. Goosebumps ran along her skin in a shockwave, the kiss finally setting his inner fireworks exploding beautiful colours within him. Slow, and sweet. But also short, they pulled back with time.

“We were stupid,” she exhaled, his hand moved to cup the back of her neck, “c’mere.” Their lips melted into one another’s like putty, teeth chattering but hands finding their ways to keep the other close. Y/n’s hands balled his t-shirt into fists, Mingi’s fingers tugging the roots on her hair and pulling her body onto his lap, thighs straddling his own while their tongues lapped, and saliva leaked down the corners of their mouths. The taste of cheap alcohol wasn’t enough to repulse, the raw taste of each other made up all the night they lay awake, hopelessly waiting for a goodnight text that would never arrive.

Pulling back with a string of saliva, they panted, giggling ever so slightly. Mingi’s hands fell to her thighs, tracing shapes on the bare skin while hers squeezed his shoulders, fingertips dipping into the ripples of his muscles. She yelped, his hands squeezed her thighs and lips dove straight into her neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses up to her ear and down to the collarbone, finger sliding the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. Despite biting her lip, a soft moan slipped from her throat, his teeth nipping ever so slightly at the skin.

“No marks-“

“-I know, baby. Only in places you can hide them.” His voice vibrated on the column of her neck, heat pooling straight to her cunt and throbbing. Baby. Baby. That came from his mouth for her. He pulled away, opening his mouth slightly only for her to take his jaw into her palms and push him back into the headboard, slipping her tongue hard into his mouth and knocking the air from his lungs. Somewhere between a growl and a moan rumbled from his throat, hands holding a bruising grip on her hips as she made an experimental roll of her hips into his dick.

Shit.

Mingi bit her bottom lip, not hard enough for blood but enough to convey his attempt for dominance. God forbid y/n make him wither to pieces, that’s easy defeat. She rolled her hips again, feeling his cock grow hard in his jeans. Fuck his own body for betraying him.

Drawing back ever so slightly, pressing their foreheads together with hot, tangled breaths and hazy eyes, she giggled at his expression: a lost puppy whining for affection, big, beautiful eyes all glossy.

Her body adjusted to sit on his thigh, never breaking their eye contact as her lips tugged into a smirk. Her finger traced along his jaw slowly, with a featherweight to it, to his chin until disconnected entirely to place her hand over his crotch, palming his painfully solid cock.

He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and mouth threatening to let a whimper slip with every grope.

“Mmm, feels nice, doesn��t it?” she teased, grinding down on his thigh, the friction igniting an intoxicating sensation between her legs, “But you did make me cry. So, I think you owe me.”  She pulled her hand off him, clutching his shoulders again to swing her leg over and off him. Fumbling with the button of her shorts, y/n hooked her fingers around the waist, wiggling the item of clothing down her legs, panties with them.

“You’re a pretty thing.” He muttered ears tinted pink and the throbbing of his cock almost becoming unbearable. She slung her leg over his thigh again, slowly lowering her cunt onto his jeans, hands firm on his broad shoulders and scrunching his t-shirt. Mingi’s hands held her hips with a soft touch, feeling the bare skin of her thighs as she rocked lazily, lulling her head back when the warm fabric caressed her clit, the attention clearing her mind. With a dark glaze coating his eyes, his lips met her neck with short, hot breaths and sloppy kisses leaving spit along her skin in their wake. “Doin’ s’well.”

Her stomach fluttered when he flexed his thigh, her pussy dragging along his jeans and arousal leaving dark patches along the fabric. Her breathing shuddered the more she rolled her hips, moving from a slow pace to a faster one, her stomach twisted and turned at the pleasure filling her senses, Mingi’s kissing and nipping along her skin only guiding the build-up in arousal.

“Mingi…” she moaned, tilting her head to allow him more access.

“God you’re so fucking hot when you say my name,” he smirked into her neck, squeezing her thighs.

“Mingi, Mingi,” she whimpered his name like a mantra, feeling her core throb as she ground her hips at a sloppier pace, “Mingi!”

“That’s it, baby, pretty pussy’s doin’ s’well.”

“M’gonna cum-“

“-cum, make a mess, y/n. Show me how I make you feel.” Gripping his jaw with her hand, she forced him to look her in the eyes and watch her whine with every rock of her hips, his chest hammering at the way her moans slipped through her lips, like a song he’d play on repeat. Never did he expect to be back with her, let alone sit on his bed, tangled in each other like nothing ever happened. Like they were still in love.

Y/n was shocked that she’d given in to a man, let alone bask in the sensation of her pussy clenching around nothing but seeing him get so worked up over her soaking his clothes. He looked so hot with pink cheeks, frustrated at her bare cunt in front of him, one he couldn’t rut his cock into.

“Fuck! I’m so close, Min.” her grip on his jaw tightened, crashing their lips, and emitting a low but desperate moan from the boy. He bounced his leg slightly, goosebumps running along her skin. He flexed his thigh again, grinning wide like he was enjoying it more than she was, when she cried out, releasing his jaw, and dropping her head into his shoulder, the coil in her stomach winding tighter until her legs trembled. His thumbs rubbed circles over her hips, helping her ride out her orgasm, relishing in having the honour of having her mess treacle over his jeans.

“So fucking hot,” he kissed her hair, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her limp body into his chest, laying back on his bed, “did s’well.” Y/n hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Despite the smell of sex and sweat coaxing their skins, his cologne still allowed her muscles to relax in comfortable silence, just the sound of their panting in the room. They say that the further you are, the closer you become—right person, wrong time, all that. Y/n and Mingi were just that as they lay on the bed, of his ratty frat house with his friends and a collective of almost strangers below them in their romantic tragedies (or comedies). Feeling his fingers trace delicate heart patterns on her back, she smiled and placed a warm, gentle kiss on his cheek before catching his gentle gaze. A look only a man who was in love could give.

[Masterlist]

[Requests are CLOSED]

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[pixie-ass]

Kill Kill

Diego Sheen x F!Reader

Summary- Lizzy Grant's, 'Kill Kill'.

"I'm in love with a dying man." - Reader and Diegos' life as Diegos' illness slowly eats away at him.

!Warnings!- Smut, they do indeed get freaky, reader rides Diego, submissive Diego. Also depressing topics, emotional rollercoaster.

Diego stumbled in and collapsed on the couch. He was drunk again. Y/n sighed as she watched his drunken state, crawling over to him, attempting to cuddle, she laid her head on his shoulder. Placing her hand on his chest she softly spoke, "Hi baby." He let out a soft chuckle as he took a swig from his bottle of whisky. His gaze landed on her, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. The alcohol seemed to loosen him up somewhat, though his usual sarcastic attitude remained. "Ain't ya a sight for sore eyes?” She smiled up at him, leaning in and planting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. Y/n knew where he'd gone, what he did, but as much as she disliked his lifestyle, she let him be, knowing he didn't have long. 

"Any luck at the machines?" He snickered in response, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking another drink. His eyes flicked down to her as he let out a satisfied sigh, a small grin gracing his features. As his free hand came up to toy with her hair, he gave you a nod. "Always have luck at the machines, darlin'. Found some money for us, and I got somethin' else too.” 

"What's that?" She hummed, her head pushing against his warm hand unconsciously. He continued to lazily play with her hair, the alcohol making his movements more lazy and relaxed than usual. A coy smirk played at the corner of his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. There was something in his gaze, something he wanted to tell her but he looked uncertain for the moment. "Guess you'll just have to wait and find out, angel,” 

"Aw, c'mon don't be like that. Just show me." She quietly giggled, hitting his chest with the backside of her hand lightly. He chuckled as she playfully did so, the smirk growing into a wide grin. His fingers continued to absentmindedly toy with a strand of her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. However, a hint of uncharacteristic vulnerability flickered across his gaze for a brief moment before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "All in good time, sweetheart. Ain't no need to rush it.”

Y/n sighed, leaning into his shoulder more, folding her legs underneath her to get more comfortable.  "Maybe.." She whispered out, she knew he was sick, knew he didn't have much longer, him talking of a future always jabbed at her heart.  Leaning forward, grabbing a box of Camels from the coffee table, Y/n plucked one, placing it between her lips. Holding the box up to him, he hummed in response. He watched as you took a cigarette, his own hand coming to the box and pulling one out for himself. His arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer as he lazily continued to toy with your hair. A smug grin ghosted over his lips as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above. "Yer gettin' as bad as I am, darlin'," he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Guess people do pick up things from the ones they love." She mumbled as she lit it, letting out a small puff. Y/n was sure after he'd be gone, she'd keep smoking, being the only aspect of him she'd have, apart from memories. He inhaled deeply as he lit his own, the smoke slowly escaping from his lips in a steady stream. He let out a soft chuckle, the fingers that were once playing with her hair now tracing small circles along her arm. "Reckon that makes me a bad influence, doesn't it?" He remarked in his usual mocking tone, the playfulness in his eyes returning. “My mama would agree." Y/n chuckled, letting out another drag as she laid her head on his chest.

His heartbeat was accelerated as it usually was nowadays. He smelled of the cologne he'd sprayed before leaving, mixed with cigarettes, booze, and his usual smell. It was comforting. Y/n found herself zoning out as she smoked. He snickered, the arm wrapped around her gently tugging her closer to him. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace soft circles along her skin as his other hand took another drink from the bottle of liquor. From the rise and fall of his chest, she could faintly hear the sound of his labored breathing. However, he made no mention of it. "If yer mama knew 'bout me, she'd chase me out with a pitchfork.” As if not listening, Y/n stayed zoned out. The only thing moving was her hand, bringing the cigarette to her lips. 

"Baby, what am I gonna do..." She didn't want or mean to sour the moment, but it was all her poor mind could think about. He glanced down at her for a moment, taking in her distant expression. When he spoke, his tone had lost its playful lilt, replaced by a gentleness that was usually reserved for late nights and private moments. He let out a small sigh, his free hand coming up to toy with her hair again, his fingers gently running through the strands.

"What do ya mean what are ya gonna do? You'll keep goin', angel'. Just like ya always have.” Y/n could feel her eyes begin to fill up with tears, her throat feeling like it was gonna close. 

"Baby, I'll miss you. I couldn't go on without you... I just couldn't." A terrifying thought had struck her mind, leave him before he goes. As her voice trembled with tears and desperation, he looked down at her, his own heart clenching tightly in his chest as he saw the pain in her sweet eyes. The realization of what she was saying struck him like a knife, and without a word, he pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tightly against him.

"Don't talk like that, darlin'. Yer not gettin' rid of me that easily. I ain't goin' anywhere right now.” She let him hold her, head burying into his chest as she began to weep like a child. Holding onto him like he was her lifeline. 

His words weren't a promise. Neither of them was sure how long he had, and his coughing was becoming more frequent. His health was deteriorating at an alarmingly painful rate.

He held her tightly in his arms, his hand moving to the back of her head as he pressed her head against his chest, his fingers gently running through her hair in an attempt to soothe her crying. "Shhh...it's alright, sweetheart. It's alright.." He spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of his labored breaths did nothing to reassure him of his own words as he pressed his lips against the top of your head, pulling her closer to him. 

That night, Y/n fell asleep in the comfort of his arms. Knowing that at least for that night, it'd all be fine, almost normal. She could enjoy what little time they had left. He held her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he rested his chin against the top of her head. Despite the illness that was slowly eating away at him, the alcohol he'd consumed made everything feel okay for the moment. The sound of his heart beat against her ear, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled in a steady rhythm. For a moment, everything felt normal. But both of them knew it was only temporary. 

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The next morning, Y/n woke up in their shared bed. Diego must have brought her over. Like always, the bed was empty, but Y/n knew where to find him. 

Getting out of the bed, she pulled on one of Diegos' black button ups and slipped on some Levi's, not caring much for appearance at the moment. She walked into the kitchen grabbing some coffee before heading out to the porch where Diego sat, smoking a cigarette and drinking his coffee. She sat down next to him. Diego leaned back in the seat, the usual smoldering cigarette dangling from his lips and nearly halfway burned down to the filter. His eyes were fixed on the scenery before him as he slowly sipped from his coffee, the usual calm and collected expression on his face as he appeared to be contemplating something.

He glanced her way as she came to sit beside him, his eyes roaming over her form, taking in the shirt she was wearing and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Mornin', darlin'.” 

"Morning, baby." Y/n responded as she sipped on her coffee, staring out at the empty desert view. The smell of cigarettes filled her senses, the same comfort taking over. 

"What are you gonna do today?" She asked, as she did so, Diego began to get into one of his coughing fits. He took another drag from his cigarette before placing it on the ashtray beside him, his hand coming to cover his mouth as the coughing attacked his chest. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure, his breathing labored and shallow as he leaned back against the seat.

"I was plannin' on headin' into town. Gotta see a friend about somethin'. Nothin' too interestin'," he responded, his tone nonchalant as if the coughing hadn't even happened. Y/n stared at him, a sympathetic yet saddened look on her face. Letting out a small sigh to gain her composure, she did the same, "Aw okay. Ya want me to stay here?" He noticed the sympathetic, sad look on her face, and he let out a gruff sigh, his shoulders slouching a bit.

"Yeah, darlin'. Just stay here. No need for ya to come with," he said gently, his usual rough exterior softening somewhat as he reached over and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a light squeeze. Y/n nodded in response, "I'll make us a nice supper. Something you'll love." She smiled at him, yet there was a sad look in her eyes and tone. Quickly glancing down at her cup of coffee, she stared down at it like it was something impressive. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the forced smile on her face was a bit too obvious, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he patted her knee lightly a final time before pulling his hand away.

"That'd be nice. Can't wait, but ya know ya dont gotta do that, angel," he said in his usual casual tone, trying to make it seem like everything was fine. He lifted his coffee to his lips and took another sip, his gaze shifting back to the scenery in front of him as the silence settled in between them. "I want to. It's no hassle. it gives me something to do." Something to distract my mind. 

•••

That evening, Y/n kissed Diego goodbye, watching as he began coughing, spitting on the ground before he got in his truck. He was becoming more worrisome, but he was stubborn, said he didn't need help. The disease was progressing faster and faster, and it was becoming more obvious each time she saw him. But still, as stubborn as ever, he shook away any concerns Y/n expressed with a wave of his hand and a gruff assurance. He climbed into the truck, giving Y/n a nod before starting up the engine and driving away. The clouds of dust and exhaust billowing behind the truck as it drove off down the dirt road and out of sight. As Y/n walked into the house, she sat down at a little desk Diego had gotten her when she moved in. She opened up her small journal, beginning to rapidly scribbled away.

'I'm in love with a dying man, I've done everything I can. Love him, I do, stay much longer I'm not sure if I can. Scared I won't be able to stay to watch the stars fade from his eyes.'

After she closed the journal, she broke down, crying into her hands. Of course, the one man Y/n had really fallen in love with had such a promising demise.

The silence in the small lonely house was interrupted only by the sound of Y/n's quiet sobs as she sat at the desk, pouring her thoughts and worries into the journal. The clock ticked on lazily, the sound the only other form of comfort in the otherwise silent house.

•••

The sky slowly darkened as the sun began to set, casting shadows over the small little home that sat out in the middle of the desert. The sound of a truck and dust clouds approaching signaled Diego's return. Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening and closing followed as he walked inside. Y/n stood up from the kitchen table. Walking over to the door, she opened her arms as she jumped up and embraced him, welcoming him home. Diego accepted her embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against his own and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight for a moment before letting go. A wide smile was plastered on her face as she led him into the kitchen by the hand.

"Made ya some yummy steak and potatoes just how ya like em. Hope it's good." He nodded in thanks as Y/n led him into the kitchen, his eyes scanning over the meal she’d prepared for the two of them.

Y/n  smiled as she began grabbing some plates. Her nose was red from all the crying she'd done previously, voice a bit nazily. Y/n hoped Diego hadn't noticed. But of course he had noticed the redness and slight congestion in her voice, and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He could tell that she'd been crying, but he didn't say anything as he took a seat at the table. "Looks delicious, darlin'.” Y/n’s smile widened as she served him a full plate of potatoes and steak, setting it in front of him. He let out a content sigh as she placed the meal in front of him, his eyes roaming over the food for a moment before glancing up at her, admiringly.

"Made some nice lemonade, too." Serving him a cup of it too, she placed it in front of him.  Y/n quickly grabbed her own plate as she sat down across from him. Diego's stomach rumbled as the scent of the meal filled his nostrils.  "It smells great. Thank you, darlin'." He picked up his fork and began digging into the meal, letting out a satisfied hum as the flavors burst across his tongue. The simple meal was made all the better by the fact that Y/n had cooked it for him. She watched as he ate, happy he was enjoying it. Y/n took a bite aswell, congratulating herself about how good she had done. 

"How'd it go with you, friend?" If Y/n was any other woman, she'd probably question his outings to the casino and with friends, but Y/n trusted she was the only woman he was seeing. Diego took another bite of the steak, savoring the tenderness of the meat and the seasonings used. As he chewed, he looked up at Y/n and nodded his head in appreciation, swallowing before responding to her question.

"It was alright. Nothing too excitin', just caught up with the locals and had a drink or two." His response was casual, as if it was nothing to worry about. And it wasn't anything to worry about, of course. Y/n had nothing to be concerned about when it came to him. She smiled as she took another bite, nodding, "That's good baby, hope ya enjoyed yourself." And she really did. Y/n wanted him to have the best while he could. Diego smiled at her words, touched by her concern for his happiness despite the situation. He knew that Y/n wanted him to make the most out of the time he had left, and he appreciated it more than he could say.

"Sure did, darlin'. The locals always make for fun conversation, even if they don't make any damn sense half the time." He chuckled, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. Y/n let out a giggle at that, "I'm surprised you can even understand them." The locals' hick accents were so thick it sounded like gibberish half the time. Diego let out a hearty chuckle, leaning back in his seat as he thought about the town locals. "Yeah, sometimes it's like tryin' to understand a damn foreign language. But ya get used to it after a while. Plus, they've got some wild stories to tell, and that makes it worth it most of the time.” 

"Yeah, I bet they do." Y/n responded, biting her food. She took a sip of her drink, she felt fine yet still felt a great wave of somberness. As if on cue, Diego began another fit of violent coughs. Though this one looked much worse that it had Y/n standing up. Diego doubled over in his seat as the coughing attack tore through his body, the violent spasms wracking his frame. He covered his mouth with a napkin, trying to muffle the sound, but there was no hiding the raw, hacking coughs that wracked his body. She watched him cover his mouth with a napkin and after the fit was over he pulled the napkin away, he saw blood staining the fabric and his heart sank. He quickly tried to hide it so she wouldn't see, but it was too late. 

Quickly stuffing the napkin into his pocket, Y/n had already seen it. And that was the last straw for her. "I can't do this anymore, Diego!.." She stood up, beginning to cry hysterically. "I can't keep living like nothing is wrong. You're getting worse day by day for fucks sake. Now... Now this! I can't! I can't anymore!." She tightly gripped onto her hair with her hands as she paced around the room, hard sobs racking her body as she hiccuped. Diego's eyes widened in surprise at Y/n's yelling, the sudden outburst unexpected. He remained seated, watching as she paced around the room and sobbed hysterically, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight. He knew he was hurting her, that the situation was taking its toll on both of them, but he was stubborn and had refused to acknowledge it.

"Dammit, stop it. It's not that bad," he said firmly, trying to downplay the severity, though his voice wavered ever so slightly. "Not that bad?? Not that bad, huh? Now you're coughing up blood! Blood, Diego!" Y/n yanked the napkin from his hands, her own shaky hands holding it as she showed him, before staring down at it herself and throwing it on the ground. Diego winced as she grabbed the napkin and showed it to him, the sight of the blood staining the white fabric a harsh reality check. Y/n could only cry, "Diego, you're not fine! " She knew what this meant. The time was getting closer. There was no future for them. He clenched his jaw, his expression hardening as he fought back the emotions welling up inside him.

"I know I'm not fine, sweetheart," he said gruffly, his voice gravelly as he struggled to maintain his composure. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there?” That was the worst part. There was nothing him or Y/n could do to change the situation or magically cure him. 

"And that's what's killing me! I'm watching you die, Diego! Do you get that? And there's nothing I can do to fix that, I can't cure you with love or comfort or anything. We're both just waiting, and it's eating away at me!" Diego sat there in silence, listening to her words. They cut deep, hitting him like a punch to the gut. He knew she was right, that there was nothing he could do to change the fate that was closing in on him. The realization of it all was devastating, and he felt powerless.

"Believe me, darlin'," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, his throat tight with emotion, "I ain't exactly enjoying it myself, ya know?” Y/n stared at him in silence, unmoving. Her expression had changed in a split second to one that was unreadable. "I'm leaving." She responded, breaking the silence, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as she spoke. Diego felt his heart sink further as the words left her mouth. He hadn't expected them, and the prospect of Y/n leaving hit him hard.

"What do ya mean, you're leavin'?" He sat up straight in his seat, his expression filled with a mix of shock and dread. "I can't stay here and wait for you to die, Diego. I'd rather leave now, that I see you still alive and breathing than watch you stop breathing and live with that engraved in my head. I love you, really I do, but I can't stay here anymore." Y/n began heading to the bedroom before she let him respond. 

"Dammit, stop. You can't just leave!" Diego was on his feet in an instant, a surge of desperation coursing through him as he followed after her into the bedroom. His voice was firm, pleading even, as he tried to reason with her.

"You ain't leavin' me. Please, angel. Don't do this. I need ya.” Y/n was in the room, packing her bags with the few clothes and items she had. She was crying as she heard his voice. Barely able to see what she was doing through the tears.  "Diego please don't make this harder.." Diego stood in the doorway, watching as she fumbled through packing her belongings, tears streaming down her face. The sight broke him. He knew how much this was hurting Y/n, how much it was hurting both of them, but he couldn't let her go. Not like this.

"Then don't leave," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "Stay with me. I don't wanna be alone. Not now.” Y/n turned around, staring at his face. He looked broken, more than he already had, and it completely shattered her heart, his words, his face. 

"I cant...stay..." was it selfish of her? Maybe. Diego watched as she turned to face him, his expression filled with a mixture of despair and desperation. He knew she were determined to leave, that she couldn't stay any longer, but hearing her say it was more painful than he could ever have prepared himself for. The thought of losing her, of being alone in his final days, was a torment that he couldn't bear.

He stepped closer to her, his voice now pleading. "Please, darlin'. I'm beggin' ya. Don't go. I need ya. I don't-" He choked back a sob.  Y/n looked at the ground, feeling conflicted. She couldn't help the new round of cries that were coming. She bit her lip to hold back the sobs, tears flowing down her cheeks. She didn't respond. 

Diego watched as she looked down, tears streaming down her face. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the pain and indecision. The sound of her sobs filled the room, each one like a dagger to his heart. He took another step closer, reaching out to take her hand in his, desperate to find the right words to make Y/n stay. "I know it's hard," he said softly, his voice wavering. "But you can't do this to me. You can't leave me now.”

"It's not fair..." She quietly responded. "You're gonna leave me. Soon." Diego's grip on her hand tightened at those words, the raw emotion in her voice making his own throat constrict with emotion. He knew it was true, that he was going to die, but hearing her say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more painful. "I know it ain't fair," he said in a pained whisper. "Believe me, the thought of leaven' ya alone, it's killin' me... but I can't change that. Please, angel. Ya gotta stay. I need ya by my side.” Y/n only nodded as she let herself fall into his chest, head leaning against his shoulder. She couldn't help the continued sobs that left her body. She'd stay until his final breath. It was the curse of loving a dying man.

Diego wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her close against his chest. He could feel the force of her sobs as they shook her body, each one a reminder of the pain and grief that both of them were going through. He held her there in silence for a moment, his own emotions threatening to overflow. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough with emotion. "I'm so damn sorry for puttin' ya through this, angel. I never wanted-" His voice broke, and he swallowed hard. 

"Don't. It's not your fault. I know." Y/n whispered out. She didn't want to hear more, she wanted to keep pretending like they had, like everything was good. Diego nodded, his arms still tight around her, grateful for her understanding. He knew she was holding back her own pain and grief, fighting to keep up the façade of normalcy, and he was thankful for it.

He rested his chin atop Y/n’s head, holding her close and relishing the warmth of her body against his. He whispered softly into her ear. "Thank you... I ain't deserve ya. But I'm sure as hell damn glad I got ya.”

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The next few days were spent well. Filled with lots of memories, gun-shooting, horseback riding, gambling, and lots, and lots of sex. 

They were staying at a hotel in Las Vegas right now. It was late at night. They both laid in bed after a long day of gambling. Ever since Diego had coughed up blood, it'd only happened 2 times more after that, but the regular fits were getting a bit more frequent. Diego and Y/n were lying beside one another on the bed in the hotel room, the room dark except for the faint glow of the Vegas lights filtering through the curtains. The sounds of the city outside could be heard, but they were muffled and distant, almost like a hum in the background.

Diego lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandering. The coughs had gotten worse, and he felt tired... so damn tired. But he didn't want to worry you, not now, not when they were spending their last days together. Y/n laid there, head on Diego's chest as she stared out the covered windows at the bright lights.  She stared at him, he seemed tired, stamina not comparable to her anymore. She planted a kiss on his chest as she stared up at him as he smoked his cigarette.

Diego smoked away at his cigarette as she rested her head on his chest, his free hand gently stroking her hair. He could feel her gaze on him, and it made him want to hide the exhaustion and pain he felt. Instead, he tried to focus on the sensations of her head on his chest and the way her hair felt beneath his fingers. "Whatcha lookin' at, angel?"  He muttered, his voice gravelly with smoke and fatigue.  "The most handsome man in the world." Y/n responded, not taking her eyes off of him. Y/n slightly sat up, planting another kiss on his neck, then going up to his jaw. Diego chuckled softly at her words, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned his head back to give Y/n better access, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his skin.

"Charmer," He murmured, the sound of his voice rough and low. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards in the dim light of the room. Y/n leaned back, leaning her head towards his hand that held the cigarette, motioning towards it so he'd give her a puff. Diego tilted the cigarette in her direction, bringing it to her lips. He watched as Y/n took a drag from it, the tip of the cigarette glowing orange in the dim light, and let the smoke slowly slip from her mouth. "Careful, darlin'," he said, the smile growing on his lips. "Don't go gettin' addicted on me now.” Y/n let out a small giggle, the rest of the smoke escaping. She planted a long kiss on his lips before pulling back. Y/n shifted under the blankets, so that she was now straddling his torso. Diego's breath hitched as she straddled him, feeling her body on top of his. He reached up to place his hands on her hips, holding her in place. She placed her hands on his chest as she leaned in for another long kiss. He deepened the kiss, savoring the feeling of her lips against his own, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily.

He felt himself growing aroused, the familiar heat spreading through his body, but he kept his focus on the kiss, not wanting to break the moment. They'd already had some rounds, but Diegos' age and condition made him tire quicker, while Y/n still had plenty left in her. She moaned into the kiss, never growing tired of his taste. Diego responded to Y/n’s moan with a low growl, his hands moving up from her hips to grip firmer on her waist. He could feel her moving against him, the heat building between them, but his body was betraying him, growing tired and exhausted from the day's activities and the relentless progression of the disease.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily, his eyes locking on hers. "Angel," he breathed out, his voice hoarse, "I ain't gonna keep up with ya if we don't take a break.”

"One more round, cmon... pretty please.." Y/n begged as she pouted, giving him pleading doe eyes, "I'll go gentle on ya.” Diego let out a laugh, the sound thick with lust and exhaustion. He could feel his body respond to her plea, but he fought against the need, knowing he was too tired to keep up with her enthusiasm.

"Damnit, darlin'. You're playin' dirty." He grunted, his grip on her hips still firm but shaky. "Ya know I can't say no to those eyes and that damn pout.” Y/n smiled as she moved her hips down to his own pelvic region. They were both already ready, so it was easy to slip him in. Y/n let out a low groan as she quickly bottomed out, never growing tired of him. Diego groaned loudly as she lowered herself onto him, the sensation intense and overwhelming. She gently and slowly moved her hips. He clenched his jaw, his body responding to her movements despite the exhaustion that threatened to take over.

He looked up at Y/n, his eyes dark with desire, and he fought the urge to thrust up into her. Instead, he held onto her hips, letting Y/n control the pace, his fingers digging into her skin in an effort to hold back. "God damn, angel," he breathed, his voice rough and ragged. 

"Shh... I got this, baby." Y/n gently rolled her hips against him, watching his expressions. She held onto his chest as she did so. Diego watched her with a mix of desire and a hint of irritation at being told to "shh." But as Y/n rolled her hips against him, he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillow as he surrendered to the feel of her on top of him. He dug his fingers into her hips, his grip tight as he fought the urge to pull her down harder onto him, to take over and set his own pace. Instead, he let Y/n continue the slow, gentle rhythm, his breath hitching with each movement. As Y/n continued, she sped up a bit, pushing harder down onto him so he'd hit a bit deeper. She let out a small whimper at each gentle thrust, "You're doing so good, baby.." Y/n  whispered out. 

Diego felt himself growing dizzier with each thrust, the pleasure mixed with the exhaustion making it increasingly difficult to stay focused. But the sound of Y/n’s voice, the praise in her words, it fueled him forward, and he dug his fingers deeper into her hip, wanting more of Y/n, always more. "Angel..," he panted, his voice low and strained. "I'm... I'm not- Gonna last... much longer-” Y/n bit her lip as she continued the hard yet slow rhythm, leaning down and planting kisses on Diego's neck, placing small nibbles in between. 

Diego moaned loudly, his head tilted back to give her better access to his neck, his body trembling with each kiss and bite she left on his skin. The pace she was keeping was driving him mad, the slow, hard thrusts bringing him closer and closer to the edge, but also denying him the release he craved. "Fuuucckk," he growled, his voice guttural and thick with need. "Don't... don't stop. Please, don't stop.” Y/n took that as a hint to speed up a bit, which she did, adding just enough pressure. Diego arched his back as she increased the pace, a low growl ripping from his throat. The added pressure made his head spin, and he felt his body nearing the breaking point.

"That good, baby?"  Y/n asked as she continued to kitten lick his neck. He was so close, so damn close, and he knew there was no holding back now. "Yeah, darlin', that's it," he panted, his voice ragged. "You're gonna... you're gonna make me..." He couldn't finish the sentence, his words becoming lost in a moan as the pleasure threatened to consume him. "Go ahead, baby.." Y/n gently ran a hand over his cheek, "Such a handsome boy, and all mine too." Y/n cooed as she continued. She bit her lip to hold back her own moans. Diego felt his body tense as she spoke, her words and touch tipping him over the edge. He let out a strangled gasp, his fingers digging into her hips as he found his release, his body shuddering as the pleasure washed over him.

He was lost in the wave of ecstasy, his eyes closing as he rode it out. When he finally came down, he opened his eyes to stare up at Y/n, panting and shaky. "Fuck, Angel…," he breathlessly muttered. Y/n kissed him as he released, though her movements didn't pause even after his release. Diego kissed back, his lips hungrily meeting hers, his hands trailing up to her chest as he lost himself in the aftermath of his climax.

"Diego's baby has to cum too, hm?" She sat up, rocking her hips continuously. He groaned as Y/n continued to rock her hips rather harshly, the oversensitivity making him shiver. "God, you're gonna kill me, woman," he panted, his voice a mixture of pleasure and pain. "I'm... I'm still recoverin' here.” Y/n ignored his pleas, focusing on getting herself off. She kept bouncing herself back and forth, now at a much more rapid pace, throwing her head back. Diego watched as Y/n rode him mercilessly, her pace quickening and head falling back, exposing the smooth column of her throat. His hands moved back to her hips, trying to get Y/n to slow down, but his touch was weak and shaky, his body still trying to recover from his own release. "Darlin', slow down," he panted, his voice ragged. "I'm not... I'm not gonna be any good to you like this.”

"Nah baby...fuck.." Y/n moaned out in response, "you're fucking perfect. " Y/n was now quietly moaning, almost small whimpers as she continued riding him harshly. Diego bit back a moan as Y/n continued the brutal pace, his grip on her hips tightening in an effort to get her to slow down. One of her hands slid down to massage her clit, causing the feeling to grow as she let out much louder moans. 

"Dammit, angel, You're... You're gonna break me," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure and fatigue. "I ain't as young as I used to be. I... I can't keep up with ya.” As Y/n massaged herself, she could feel herself getting close, "C'mon old man... quite whining." She teased as she shut her eyes, mouth falling open. Diego let out a growl at getting called an "old man," a mixture of irritation and amusement in his expression. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, his body still exhausted and spent.

"Watch it, darlin'," he warned between gasp, his voice a low rumble. "I can still give yer pretty little ass a lesson on manners.” To shut him up, Y/n began thrusting harder, feeling her high coming fast. Her jaw dropped as she let out a loud stream of whimpers, making a mess all over Diego's cock as she came hard. Diego groaned loudly as you came, the sound of your whimpers driving him crazy.  As Y/n came, she continued moving her hips through it. He clenched his jaw as she rode him through it, the oversensitivity making his body quiver. Finally she crumbled onto Diego's chest as she caught her breath, still seeing stars. He wrapped his arms around Y/n, holding her close to him as he panted, his breath ragged as well. 

"Hell of a way to shut me up," he muttered, his voice gravelly and breathless. Y/n stayed quiet as she panted, body shivering as the only sound she was able to get out was heavy pants through her mouth. Y/n felt dizzy from how strong her orgasm was, having been the strongest one tonight. He could feel how strong the climax had been for her, the intensity and pleasure having left her breathless. Diego held her close, her body trembling against his chest as she panted and shuddered. He ran his fingers gently over her back, the touch light and soothing as he waited for Y/n to come down from the peak, his own exhaustion forgotten for the moment. "Fuuck..." Y/n finally breathed out, "your cocks so good, baby."  She spoke, almost in disbelief even though this wasn't near the first time they'd had sex. Diego let out a low chuckle, the sound thick with exhaustion and a hint of pride.

"You always did know how to flatter a guy," he replied, his voice rough and still a little breathless. "Though, I reckon I can't take all the credit for this." He gave her backside a gentle pat, the small gesture affectionate and full of a touch of his usual playfulness. Y/n let out a small giggle as he did so, her body still flattened into his chest, using him as a mattress almost. She still hadn't pulled out. 

"Guess it's a 2 person thing, but you've got the magic," Y/n winked up at him. Diego chuckled again, the sound low and gentle. His hand continued to glide across her back, feeling the rise and fall of her breath as she lay on his chest. "You're not too bad yourself, darlin'," he replied gruffly. "I know I ain't young, but you still manage to wear me out like a damn dog.” Y/n smiled, lazily lifting her head, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "I love ya baby. " She laid her head back down, closing her eyes Diego smiled back, the corners of his eyes wrinkling slightly. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before replying.

"I love ya too, darlin," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly with affection. "You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me.” He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before speaking up again. “Bout that thing I got ya.” He leaned over, opening the small drawer, “Was gonna wait but, better now.” There was a small maroon box in his hands. He opened it up showing a beautiful ring, an engagement ring. Y/n's eyes widened as she stared at it, tears now welling up in them, “Oh baby…” he took it out, holding his hand out for her to give him her hand, she didn't hesitate. He slipped the ring on, “The future aint promised, so i cant propose to marry you. But for the time being.” She was now crying as she stared down at the ring, admiring it she could only nod in response. 

“When I'm gone, I want you to take care of yourself. Don't trust anyone fully, angel, but have fun. Live your life to the fullest, promise me ya won't have me keeping you back.” 

•••

Diego was the first to fall asleep. After the small session of crying after his proposal, they'd cuddled, Diego having his arms tight around Y/n. She was still awake, gently brushing some strands of hair away from his face as he quietly snored. He looked at peace even as his calm breathing was interrupted by bits of jagged breaths. Y/n watched him as he slept, making sure he was fine. The fear he may stop breathing keeping her from a deep sleep. Eventually she found herself slowly dozing off into the usual light sleep, head against his chest, the gentle face of her dying lover the last thought in her mind. 

[alt-vera]

— cigarettes out the window ⁀➷

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every night joel miller’s neighbour smokes cigarettes out her window, and every night he watches her do it.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.4k | ❛ cigarettes out the window - TV girl ❜

warnings: smoking. mentions of parental death. soft!joel miller. praise. fingering. piv sex. cockwarming. established age gap. mdni.

❝ but she never really quits, she’d just say she did ❞

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JOEL ONLY EVER SAW HER AT NIGHT.

　The moon would shine brightly over the QZ, reflecting off posted signs and apartment windows as the streets quietly hummed through the late hours, desperate to sleep. There she would be, a girl hanging out her window with small puffs of a smoke wafting out of her mouth, cigarette lit and resting between her fingers like a ruby ring.

　There was only an alleyway separating their buildings. Close enough to hear her sighs but never to touch her youthfully tired face. Joel found a simple pleasure in watching his neighbour smoke as her eyes watched the street beside them buzz with hidden life, rowdy kids sneaking home, out past curfew and desperate not to be caught by FEDRA.

　He didn’t know her name, and didn’t care to. There was something just so oddly serene about how carelessly she rested her elbows in her window sill, and how her smoke would blur the stars and paint the night sky with a temporary cloud. He wondered how she got the cigarettes, a seemingly endless supply.

　He didn’t find out until she became a customer of his.

　Apparently whoever she’d been trading with before had been caught, and so she’d found a new dealer through word of mouth. That dealer was none other than Joel Miller.

　You’d never come to him for anything other than cigarettes. Never pills, or booze, or any other amenities he had stockpiled. Only those thin sticks off nicotine.

　Somehow your relationship had changed from retailing to romance, and Joel often found himself tangled up in your sheets. He’d wake up in the middle of the night to air nipping at his bare skin, and he’d look to find you with your upper body out the window, smoke curling around you in a tobacco-smelling aura.

　He’d watch you stand there for an hour, sometimes longer, before you’d brush your teeth quietly and then crawl back into bed with him. Despite your best efforts, the stench of smoulder would remain, lingering on your tee as you snuggled into his warm body. He’d inhale it as you pressed into him, enjoying the smell of it. The smell of you.

　You always promised him you’d quit, but those words became more empty the more Joel heard them.

　One night in particular, he crawled out of bed to wrap his arms around you as you took your clockwork stance at the window. Your cigarette glowed between your fingers as you inhaled, puffing out the smog.

　“Why’re you up, darlin’?” He questioned softly, nose nestled deep into your hair.

　“Can’t sleep,” You mumbled in reply, goosebumps gracing your bare arms from the cool summer air. You ignored the shiver crawling through your body.

　“It’s cold,” He murmured back, his hands coming to rub your arms in an attempt to warm you up. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

　“I will in a minute,” You replied softly, eyes finally turning to meet his. He could see the well of tears in your eyes, and his brow furrowed.

　“Darlin’, what’sa matter?” He questioned tenderly, his own eyes swelling with worry. Joel was a rough man, but in moments like these his old-self broke through. The self that cared deeply for the ones he loved. The self that lived proudly before the world went to hell.

　“Nothing,” You replied, flicking your cigarette into the street below before breaking away from him and stumbling back into bed. Joel followed quietly. The window remained open.

　The silence stayed between the two of you like a wall, but eventually you began tearing those tense bricks away.

　“Y’know, I came here with my mom,” Your words were soft and careful, as if you were telling him a secret that no one was supposed to know. Joel listened intently. “I was thirteen.”

　He hummed, showing he was listening. You continued.

　“For my birthday, she wanted to get me something special, but trading wasn’t very big yet, and the few people that did had nothing good to offer. So, she broke into that boarded up mall.”

　He could hear your voice tremble as the vulnerable words left your lips. His thumb absentmindedly stroked your arm, attempting to console you.

　“It’s been twelve years since then,” You let out a sorrowful laugh, “I’ve watched this city change for twelve years. New signs come up, old ones come down. All these signs she never got to see…”

　“All over a damn birthday gift.”

　You laughed again, and Joel hugged you too him. No tears left your eyes, and his shirt was dry when you pulled away. “She would’ve liked you,” You said as you smiled tenderly, “The cigarettes you get are always the brand she smoked. You would’ve been an angel in her eyes.”

　Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sure i would’a liked her too, especially if she was anything like you.”

　The sadness that creased your eyes changed into one of a faint happiness, and you pulled him into a deep kiss. Joel could taste the nicotine on your tongue, and it drew him in as a second-hand smoke. Cigarettes were your addiction, but you were his addiction.

　The kiss turned into something more, his fingers dancing around the hem of your raggedy tee until his hands slipped under them, cupping your chest as your nipples pebbled from his chilled fingers. You moaned his name, a desperate call for him.

　He moved one hand to dive into your panties, fingers gathering the slick you’d developing as you had kissed him. He used the arousal to guide himself into you, fingertips slipping against your gummy walls as he fucked you with his hand, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes closed in euphoria, your moans gracing his ears as you begged him to keep going, a tide of pleasure rolling over you as you reached your high.

　Your hips twitched from overstimulation as you moved to palm him through his ratty boxers, gentle hand pulling the waistband and slipping inside to stroke him.

　“Baby,” His groan reached your ears as if it were a melody, urging you to continue, “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

　“Do it, Joel,” You spurred him on, his hand coming to replace yours as he pumped himself, pulling his boxers down and climbing on top of you, slipping his body between your legs as he traced his tip through your folds.

　A plead left your lips, begging for the teasing to stop. Joel let out a light chuckle as he complied, entering you carefully, allowing you to stretch to him. Obscene sounds met his actions, and he began to move, fucking you to an imaginary beat in his mind.

　“Good girl,” He groaned, a finger tracing your plush lips as he thrust inside of you. “Taking me so well like this.”

　You moaned at the praise, and Joel smiled adoringly, continuing to fuck you until your wave washed over you again. His hips stuttered as he reached his own peak, thick cum painting your walls.

　He stayed inside you as you both fought to catch your breath, pants leaving both your mouths. You pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, finger tracing his jawline.

　“Can we stay like this?” You asked, voice low as if you were scared of his rejection. You felt him nod against your stomach, and you fought a smile as your fingers began to deftly play with his graying hair.

　Joel relished the domestic action, melting into your intimacy. He breathed in the smell of smoke that stuck to your skin like perfume.

　“Joel?” You asked after a moment.

　“Hm?” Joel replied, hum muffled through your shirt and skin.

　“I’ll quit tomorrow,” You murmured softly, and Joel laughed.

　“Alright,” He said, turning so that you could hear him clearly. He raised his head, and his eyes met yours, a glimmer of jocose hidden in his deep eyes. “You’ll quit tomorrow.”

　You both knew it wasn’t true. Joel would continue to scour the Earth for that one specific brand of cigarettes that you smoked, and you’d continue you lean with your elbows on the open windowsill, smoke clouding and painting a familiar aura around you.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Any way you want it

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 4

Prompts: Slap & Loud

Rated: E

Words: 1,282

Tags: Nudity; Light BDSM; Blindfolds; Sensory play; Slapping; Dirty talk; Top Eddie; Bottom Steve

Steve doesn’t know for how long he's been here. It's hard to tell with the blindfold on, the way his mind has gone fuzzy and soft, but his legs are starting to ache from keeping his kneeling position and the ropes binding his wrists behind his back are starting to chafe, so it must've been a while. He supposes he could call out, ask Eddie to end it, but the mere thought has his hackles rising and his teeth gritting, so he doesn’t. Instead, he counts his breaths, tries to focus on the crackle of the fireplace and the pleasant warmth of the flames on his aching limbs.

“How are we doing, baby? Desperate yet?” 

The words tear an involuntary gasp from Steve’s throat. The last thing he remembers is Eddie closing the bedroom door, the sound of his boots thunking down the stairs. How far gone has he been that he didn't hear him return? 

“Desperate?” is what he says. He's a little proud of himself for how his voice comes out, all casual disinterest with only the barest of trembles. “Bored, more like. I thought the goal of this was to make me horny, not tired.” 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. He's closer than before, even though Steve didn't hear him move. Did he take off the boots? Steve fidgets in his spot, straining his neck and trying to peek out from under the blindfold, but it sits snugly and won't budge. “That's the problem with you, y’know. You're too stubborn for your own good.”

A hand wraps around his throat, pulling him back against a warm, naked body. Eddie’s cock presses into the space between his shoulder blades, thick and fully hard, and Steve gives a strangled moan as he feels himself twitch to attention. Something clinks, like a glass being set down on the mantelpiece, and he frowns at the sharp, earthy scent that hits his nostrils. 

“Wait, did you get into my dad's good whisky?” 

Eddie laughs. Something touches Steve's collarbone, something hard and sharp-edged and cold and he hisses at the sting of it.

“Why not?” Eddie says, slowly dragging the ice cube down, cold droplets catching in Steve’s chest hair. “Why shouldn't I drink his booze? I'm in the house he never comes back to, in the bedroom he never uses, and I have his perfect golden boy at my feet. I think your daddy has made it abundantly clear he doesn't want any of these things. I, though?” 

The ice cube drags over his left nipple, and Steve just barely manages to keep in his yelp. 

“I want it all, baby boy. The question is: What do you want?” 

He rolls Steve’s hardened nipple between two fingers, the pain only heightened by the lingering cold of the ice- … and then he's gone. Steve is left in the dark, floundering and disoriented and desperately hard, and this time, he can't contain his whimper. 

A hand grabs his jaw, from the front this time, and he smells whisky and cigarette smoke and the heady, thick scent of Eddie’s arousal. Steve moans and opens his mouth, saliva pooling on his tongue. When he tries to lean in, Eddie digs his nails into his skin and holds him in place. 

“What. Do. You. Want?” he repeats, every word sharp. “You're not getting anything unless you tell me.” 

He gives Steve’s jaw a brief, warning shake, and Steve’s cock twitches against thin air. Eddie waits. A second, two, while the fire crackles merrily and the cold water on Steve’s skin slowly goes warm. And Steve still can’t see him, but he knows he must be a sight to behold. The black lines of his tattoos contrasting with pale skin, dark curls basked in a halo of red and orange by the firelight, the smug smile playing on those perfect, plush lips. He wishes he could see. 

He could say as much, he guesses - except the thought makes something unbearably soft stir behind his chest, so he doesn’t. 

“You,” he says instead, struggling to form words around the hand still clenching down on his jaw. “Want you.” 

“Aw, honey,” Eddie coos, all fake sweetness. His grip doesn’t ease. “But you have me already. I’m right here with you, ain’t I?” 

His thumb shifts, the pad of it pressing down on Steve’s bottom lip without quite slipping in, and it’s all he can do not to cry out in frustration. His hands twitch in their restraints.

“Your cock,” he grits out, humiliation prickling at the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, he’s glad for the blindfold. 

“Pardon?” Eddie says. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps. “You know exactly what I-” 

The slap comes without warning. One second, Eddie’s hand is on his jaw, and one moment later, it’s gone, only for his open palm to connect with Steve’s face. The impact isn’t hard, but it still echoes loudly over the crackle of the fire, leaving behind a hot, stinging feeling in its wake. 

“Oh, look at that, he can speak up,” Eddie drawls. His hand fists into the hair at the base of Steve’s neck, tilting his head up. “Now listen to me, baby. You’re gonna tell me what you want, and you’re gonna tell it to me loud and clear. Do you understand?” 

Steve bites down on his bottom lip to keep in the sob building at the back of his throat. 

“I can always leave again,” Eddie says. “Give you another hour or so to-” 

“No, please,” Steve blurts. He doesn't know why, but the thought of Eddie leaving him alone again fills him with a horrible, cold dread. “Your cock. Fuck, I need- … I want your cock, want it inside me.” 

It feels so weird, saying it out loud. Embarrassing and mortifying and freeing and beautiful all at once. His voice cracks pathetically around the last syllable, but he can't bring himself to mind - not when Eddie makes the softest, fondest sound and cups his face in both hands. 

“That was so good, honey,” he praises, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He can't quite tell if it's a sob or a laugh, but when Eddie strokes the pads of his thumbs over his cheeks, he realizes that they are covered in wet tracks. “Where do you want it?”

“Everywhere,” Steve babbles, the words rushing out of him in a mad tumble, now that the dam has broken. “Wanna suck you off, want you to come on my face, want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me into the mattress and fill me up with your-” 

"Whoa, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pressing a long, chaste kiss to his lips to stop the barrage. “I'd love to do all that, but let's take care of one thing at a time?” 

Steve whines again, the prospect of having to wait, of having to choose when he needs everything, everywhere, at once, sending fresh tears of frustration to his eyes. 

“How about,” Eddie says, lips ghosting over his mouth, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, “if I fuck your face first, until I'm nice and hard for you? And then, when that's done, I get us on that bed and you can ride my cock until we both can't come anymore? How does that sound?” 

“So fucking good,” Steve breathes. “Can we start right now? Please, I need-” 

“Of course we can, baby,” Eddie coos, slipping a tender hand into Steve’s hair in the same movement that he pushes his cock into his mouth, stuffing him deliciously full. “See? Good boys get everything they want. They just need to know how to ask for it.” 

More smutty September

[dietmountaindewbae]

please please please can you write me a fic where reader and Humbug Alex are both work colleagues (reader thinks Alex is goofy and nerdy - but boy she will be wrong) and they fuck in his office whilst a work party is happening downstairs. PLEASE

xxv. talk tonight

alex turner x reader

word count: 4739

summary: At an office party (humbug!) Alex watched you all by yourself, his heart tells him to hurry and talk to you before he loses the chance to.

warnings: ch*cking, scracth*ng, degrad*ng.

playlist

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The elevator doors shut close, and finally, some silence makes you feel at ease. You're not even close to feeling a buzz with the skinny glasses of sparkly champagne they served and as you traveled up the rooftop you propped a cigarette in your mouth.

You swing open the door of the building's rooftop, the company you worked for was having its 6th anniversary, and while everyone was celebrating downstairs, you were aching for some time by yourself. The fresh cold allowed you to breathe but it only made goosebumps crawl up your back.

"Be careful there" Someone says from behind you, you are too close to the edge of the wall, so you turn around on your feet and face the man with the gentle voice.

"What are you doin' up here?" You say with a silly smile. Alex was one of the best workers at the company, he's been rewarded and recognized for his honest work and loyalty to the company, he's a good guy but socially awkward when it comes to going to bars late at night after working extra hours.

"Just wanted some space" You've never had a real conversation with Alex, let alone, be completely by yourself with him. Alex was a nice man, with his long wavy hair and his shy little voice and thick Yorkshire accent, he was decent, always serious but he had something likable and magnetic about him.

"Me too, are you having fun though?" You grab from your skirt your lighter and try to burn your cigarette, in the attempt you fail, and he leans in, grabbing the lighter and helping you light your cigarette, grabbing one from his box.

"Not quite there yet," He says, blowing the smoke away, "I'm waiting for the booze to kick in" You giggled, catching Alex's attention.

"It's the first time I've heard you say more than 4 words to me" Alex looks down to the floor smiling, he's quite shy but very nice, "I enjoy that..." He looks back at you with a smile, maybe it was the booze, but his radiant brown eyes looking at yours so deeply make you feel hot.

"What about you? How are you feelin'?" As you were talking, Alex's eyes ran down your body discreetly, you were looking sexy with your black mini skirt long sheer black knee socks, and grey silk button-up blouse, nearly unmade, your nails painted black, and your hair in soft curls. The smell of your perfume and the cigarette that burned in between your fingers blew him away.

"...But overall I think the party's ok, I just don't like the music the DJ chose" Alex smiles softly, and each time you talk he takes a step closer to you.

"Horrible set, isn't it?" You lightly chuckle nodding your head, "What kind of music would you like him to play?"

"Mmm... I dunno maybe the smiths? I love the smiths... I know it's an odd choice for a party but-"

Alex interrupted you by lightly putting his hand on your arm, his thumb caressing the soft material of your shirt, "No, no, not at all... it's much better than the trash they're playing" He noticed his hand on your arm, and you smiled as he took his hand away very shyly, as if he had to ask if it was ok even to do that, you crossed your eyes and he look down to the floor scratching the back of his head, "I-I..." He clears his throat, "Sorreh.... I know the DJ, he's an old mate, I can tell him to play some smiths for you" You see the way his body moves closer to yours, how his shoulders move unsteadily as he breathes, meaning his heart is beating fast, his eyes looking at you with hope, and you realized... someone has a crush on you.

"That would be great, thank you Alex" You and him head towards the door after throwing away your cigarettes, he opens the door for you and closes it once you are inside the building, you smile at him as your eyes crossed again, and you take initiative to grab his hand as no one was watching.

Getting involved with your co-workers was never an option for you, all the men that worked here were bitter and boring, always bragging about their money, faking a smile every time they talked about their marriages just to proceed to flirt with all the women at the copier room. You didn't have anything bad to say about Alex, he was a dork, a bit shy and awkward yet he was the most interesting and likable person in your office. He made himself present with little actions, he sometimes dropped by your desk to leave you a bagel or doughnut since you worked in the cubicle next to his, but you weren't the only one who received those little acts, so you thought nothing about it, he hardly even knew your name, but he always smiled at you whenever he saw you.

For all you knew, he was single, and he's very reserved, you only ever see him talking with Nick or Jamie, the drinks in you made your rules bend a bit, maybe see where this gets you, maybe nothing would happen, but if it did, you wouldn't feel bad about it at all.

The only rule that had to be respected was, not being seen flirting with him, rumors spread faster than the speed of light in your office, and you didn't want to ruin this little spark between you two for just one night.

As you and Alex step into the elevator, you drop his hand, being on opposite corners of the elevator, you cheekily smile at him, he looks visibly disappointed at how you dropped his hand. When the doors opened again, you two walked side by side, keeping a reasonable but choking distance from each other as if he was agreeing to your rules without you even having to tell him. As you walked past the people you stepped into the disco-style dancefloor with squares of neon lights, and Alex walked forward to the DJ, saying hi to the guy with fuzzy curly messy hair, black headphones on his neck, grey sweatpants, and funny sunglasses.

He whispers something to his ear, and the guy nods and they switch the music. You hear the hypnotic sound of the intro of 'How Soon Is Now?' by The Smiths, you're lightly divided by people, but he's still able to watch you dance, and you look beautiful as you do. He sees you smiling, laughing, and having fun with the other girls, but your eyes are only on him, and his on yours.

Alex wasn't a man of many words, but ever since you had come into the office, a part of his heart had started to beat so rapidly, that he always turned to look at you whenever you untied your tight ponytail and let your hair fall, whenever you stretched your back and he could see the outline of your chest peek through your shirt, he was gone. He never tried to speak to you, he was too self-conscious to do so, he lived all of his fantasies of you and him in his head, he had the sound of your voice engraved on his head. Whenever you dropped something he was always there to pick it up and hand it to you, or when the printer was out of paper he was the only one that gave you some new paper to work on, every day when he arrived with fresh goods he made sure you were the first to get the warmest piece or the biggest slice. He did all of that, but you didn't think it was out of a crush, you thought it was him just being nice, and man if he could tell you how wrong you were.

In his head, you two had thrown away all of the people and there was only you and him dancing to some old music that no one thought was fit for the occasion, but you thought there was no better timing than this one, but the fun ends as you feel someone's breath on your neck, one of your supervisors drunkenly whispers close to your ear...

"That skirt fits your bum very well" You rolled your eyes and walked away, not saying another word, Alex following you closely. He catches you at the elevator just in time sliding inside.

"Hi," He says out of breath, you giggle and he brushes his hair away, "Where are we going?" You smiled as you heard the excitement of his voice.

"Well, I was planning to go the rooftop again..." You say looking down to the floor, he saw how that man had whispered to your ear something that woke up a flaming rage inside you, something so profoundly disgusting, you just wanted to get away as fast as you could.

"I have a better idea..." You smile, he presses down at the button, and he waits patiently in the opposite corner, facing you with a smile, you wonder in your head where he was taking you, while he was battling in his head what else could he say to keep you interested, he thought he could bore you at any given time. The doors of the office were open, the lights were completely down, and only the lights of the city that shone through the cracks of the curtains could show you two the way. He noticed you were afraid to step inside, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you in, "The cameras are down for the night, don't worry love, no one's gunna 'now we were here"

You smiled, "I'm not worried about that... just not a big fan of the dark..." You giggled and he played along with you, he grabbed your hand tighter, making your cheeks lightly blush as you walked into his cubicle, you sat on his desk while he pulled from a corner a carton box and took out a big bottle of whisky, "I didn't take you as a bad boy, Al"

"Well, this is the only thing that takes some of me headaches from when me and Jamie stay late doin' those bloody Excel sheets" Then he takes out from his pocket his MP3 connecting it to the little speaker next to his desk, playing more music for you as he quickly goes to the break room and fetches you a plastic cup and a soda. He sits on his chair and pours you some coke and whisky, and when he severs you a good amount of alcohol he hands you the cup and grabs the bottle touching the edge of the bottle with your cup and you both drink away.

"Thanks... I couldn't handle more wine... needed something stronger" You smile at him, and he brushes his long hair away.

"Do you wanna know something else about the office?" You smile and nod your head, fixing your hair to the side, he shuffles on his chair and you hear the sound of his lighter coming off, he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it, blowing the smoke up directly without causing the fire alarm to go off.

"What the fuck?!" You both break into laughter, "Oh my God!-" He lightly shushes you to make you talk quieter, you keep laughing until your abdomen hurts, and you sip on your drink once more, "Imagine the day I decide to set my supervisor's chair on fire... God"

"He's a dickhead" You nod your head.

"I don't even wanna say anythin' else, I mean he doesn't touch me or anything but that doesn't mean he cannot say anything to me... which is what angers me" He nods his head, turning on the lamp next to his computer, "Thanks"

"I wanted to see you while you're talking" He smiles, and you lightly blush once more, "Next time he says anything to you, why don't we put some tacks on his desk?" You giggle together, you can't help but stare at the way the corners of his mouth rise to make that cute smile appear, you like how discreet he was, lightly grazing your hand whenever he laughed, or how his eyes sweep down to gaze your body.

"I was wrong about you Al," You say, he drags his chair closer to you very slowly so you don't notice but you do, and you don't mind it, "You're the only interesting person in this office"

"Why is that? You're always laughing with Brian at the copier" You stare at him with a cheeky grin.

"Are you jealous or something?" You tease him, and he stutters into his words trying to fix his mistake.

"No, I just thought that... never mind" He looked away, taking another sip of the bottle, you grab the cigarette trapped in between his fingers, taking a drag and staring at him deeply.

"He's just a funny guy, there's nothin' much going on with me" His eyes light up, so after all, you weren't the only one who was concerned about him being single or not.

"I'm glad," He blurs out, making you both smile, "What is so interesting about me anyway?" You bit your bottom lip, taking a big sip from his bottle of whiskey, the liquor scratching your throat but it goes down easily once you sip on your coke.

"I mean, isn't it obvious?" You smile at him, starting to feel a bit dizzy, he takes a big chug of his bottle while you talk, "I just know that you don't say everything that you think, there's more to you"

"You're not far from the truth," He says nudging his head and leaning closer to you, resting his elbow on his desk next to your leg, you saw his face properly now, and he was a dream.

"Why? Is there something you want to say to me, Alex?" You teased leaning in closer to his face, your hand almost touching his, you could smell his cologne now, the space in between you two almost being none.

"I'm afraid there aren't enough words for that" He looks down to the slit in your shirt, your arm squeezing your tits together, he could see your black lace bra perfectly, he had this insatiable need for you, "But as you know already, I am not a man of many words, I take actions" His eyes looked down to your lips, licking his, already drooling to get a taste of your lips, until you suddenly pulled away, scratching the back of your head, "Wait, what happened?"

"If this is going to happen, we can't kiss"

"But..." There has to be a but always.

"I'm not gonna do it if we're gonna be awkward in the mornin'" You cross your arms sitting comfortably on the desk.

"I'm not like that," He says with a smile, but he sees your position and your limits, he just wanted a little bit of you, from the moment he saw you outside all by yourself under the moonlight with your beautiful eyes and lips smiling to him he knew he had to strip out of his costume and talk to you at that moment, he needed and wanted you now than anything, "If you don't want me to kiss you, can I at least touch you?" You bit your lower lip, sitting upright, his eyes only looking at you and not anywhere else begging you to say yes, he desires you with a big ache, you see it right in his eyes, just as transparent as glass.

"Yes.." He cups your cheeks and his face approaches yours, looking at you with lust, his lips peck the inner corner of your lips, traveling up to your earlobe, his fingers lightly playing with your hair, and his lips kissing your neck very gently at first, but then he licks his lips, kissing your neck with big wet kisses all over the place, sniffing every last bit of your perfume. He kicks away his chair, standing up to run his hands down your sides, unbuttoning your shirt gently, sneaking his hands to your bra, kneading your tits and squeezing them hard, you sigh and he breathes in your quiet moans and sighs like smoke, letting it consume him from the inside out.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful" He whispers into your ear, kissing the left side of your chest, where your heart is, you try to fight the urge to kiss him, but impatiently, he's in great need to show you real pleasure, to tear down your rules and let him taste your mouth, there was nothing he desired more in that moment.

You untuck your shirt, letting him enjoy the taste of your skin, and his hands feel your bare skin, his hair lightly tickling your neck, and you couldn't escape the need to run your hands thru his soft curls, lightly pulling on his hair as he lets your tits spill out from your bra, sucking on them and nibbling your nipples with his teeth, his tongue licking and his mouth sucking every inch of your skin, leaving red bruises on your chest so you don't forget who's been there the next morning.

He momentarily pulls away from you, his lips tearing off your skin like scar tissue on your knees, "What?-"

"You were right, love," He says, the look in his eyes sending shivers all over your body, "I haven't told you everything"

"What else have you got to say to me?" His hands slowly travel down to your legs, riding up your skirt until they unravel your black lace underwear.

"I've been watching you ever since you came here, every day, every time you felt exhausted and you stretch your back against the chair, I just want to make that go away... make you feel brand new... drop a note and tell you to meet me in the bathroom, and make you sigh out of pleasure and not from being tired, I only see you" His eyes dug in yours as he kneeled in front of you, "Maybe you think I'm quiet and dorky, but you don't even know for how long I've been thinking of you like this" His knuckles pull your soaking wet panties to the side, his eyes watching you as his fingers enter your body and his lips suck on your pussy harshly, slowly your orgasms started to get louder and louder each time his fingers rimmed your walls. Shamelessly he licks your pussy up, swallowing every ounce of the wetness that leaks out of you, "You're so fuckin' tight babe, taste so delicious"

"Fuck... please, don't stop!" You push his head in between your legs, starting to feel that ache getting bigger and bigger as he sucks right at the spot you needed hard, his fingers fuck your pussy faster, filling up that hole so well, more wetness rushes out from your legs, your end is yet to come, you feel it crawling up from your belly to your chest, starting to form in your throat as a scream until he takes his mouth off from your warmed up cunt, leaving you to breathless and needy for more.

He covers your mouth with his hand, sliding down his fingers covered in your arousal into your mouth, your lips sucking them hard until he makes you gag around them, pulling them out from your mouth with a string of saliva, "Can you be quiet for me?" He says it in such an easy way you're so amazed.

"Mhm," You bit your bottom lip.

"Tell me babe... are you gonna let me fuck you or are you just gonna pretend your pussy isn't drooling for some of it?" Your cheeky smile is no competition for him, he's certain you're in great need of more than just fingers and sucking.

You grab the buckle of his belt, undoing it very slowly, your hand palming his hard-on, you smiled as you felt the size and weight of his cock, biting your bottom lip as you take him out of his boxers and see him on the flesh. The tip of his cock leaked some wetness, he sighed as you give his veiny cock a few strokes, the tip of your thumb rubbing down his head, spreading it all over his cock. His hands cover your mouth pushing your head back and his tip rims your clit, lubing up his cock with your juices. You were trying to find a way to get more pleasure from him but the only way was right in front of you, "You know what to say babe... don't act like a dumb little cunt"

Your eyes lock in his, his lips a few inches close to yours, to kiss your lips, "Fuck me, Alex, please..." You bite your lower lip as the tip of his cock slides down tightly inside you, making you sigh. His fingers dig into your thighs, and you rock yourself against him, your elbow in the desk while the other holds Alex's shoulder tightly, his hand gripping the wall and the other one in your lower back. He rocks his hips against yours, fucking you slowly and passionately, the tip of your nose against his, he liked to watch your pupils dilate as he buries himself deep inside you.

"I loved leaving you just like that... soaked in all of your juices for me cock to slip inside you... God, you're so fuckin' wet for me... you fuckin' cock lovin' whore"

"Fuck you" You pant, "Fuck you Alex" You push your hips against his harder, his hands scattered in the back of your head, wrapping his arm around you, driving his cock in and out of you so hard, you were slowly losing yourself in his arms, enjoying how good he's fucking you.

"You love it," He says with a grin on his lips, his lips moaning against yours, grazing each other, laying one in another, but so far from being sealed together, that kept him on the verge, everything being strictly physical, the desire of wanting the feeling of your lips around his will bother him for the rest of the night.

Your tits bounce against his chest, sweat drips down from his forehead, and he's forcing himself to handle longer just for you to come on his cock so hard your whole body would feel light and high in the sky. You grip his shoulder tightly, holding yourself up with your hand, his fingers wrapped around your neck as he feels your pussy dragging him in, getting tighter with each stroke of his cock in your walls. His thumb went down in between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight little circles, forcing you to come, your abdomen pushing out your last cry of pleasure, and you choked out a little sigh of relief.

Alex was fast to pull out of you, you watch how his hand made a fist around his cock, and you didn't want him to finish like that. You willingly get down on your knees, and blow him thoroughly, "Jeeesus fuckin' christ... fuck!" He made a fist with your hair, "You want me to cum in your mouth, babe?" You hummed as a yes, sucking him harder as he drove your head back and forward. He drove his hips into your mouth, pushing your head until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag all over him, feeling him come inside your mouth in hot spurts at the feeling of your soft plump lips. You swallowed without him having to say it, "Mmm... fuuckin' hell, that was..."

"Really good," You said, he helped you get to up from the ground, holding hands and smiling at each other.

"You're ok? Your knees don't hurt or anything?" You giggled lightly, feeling a little strange about how much he cared for those little things.

"No, no, I'm alright" You turned to fix your blause, putting each button back on, and when you faced him back, you saw him staring at you with his big puppy eyes in awe, "What?"

"You've... um, your eye... I'll fix it" He grabbed the edge of his sleeve, he was wearing a basic white button-up shirt, denim jeans, and a belt. He cleaned the stain in your eye from the crying, and while you fixed your hair, he put everything in his desk back in order.

"Thank you, Al," You said with an honest smile, "I had fun"

"Sounds like a goodbye," He says with a fainted smile.

"No... it's not, I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He fakes a smile and says yes with his head, before you head out, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in to give you a warm hug, you lean back to get a better look at him and say, "Sweet dreams, Al"

"You too" You break the hug, leaving the confused man with his big brain and questions all by himself.

When he drove to his apartment and laid down on his bed, he grabbed his phone, wanting to send you a message, but what type of message? You said you were ok, even said you had fun, but he was hooked. He was aching to know more about you, to know what you think. The rest of the night he kept looping around in his head every word he said to you, and everything you and him had done. He didn't want to sound so needy, but at least he wanted to talk to you.

The next day at the office when Alex sat on his chair, he smiled, vividly remembering what had happened the night before. But he knew something felt strange, he felt something was missing, this feeling was bittersweet, and you came right in through the door with your black low-waist pants, heels, and baby pink shirt with some buttons undone, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

There was a moment when everyone was working quietly in the cubicle, and he pushed himself up from his chair, walking through your cubicle he dropped a little purple post-it note at your desk.

"Break room"

That's all the letter said.

You put the note away in your purse, walking to meet him, you closed the door and he was waiting for you behind it.

"Hey," You said with a gentle smile.

"I- um" You sighed, thinking you knew well what he wanted to say. So, you cut him up before he did.

"Nothin' happened last night, you can forget about it... we had fun, let's leave it like that" But before you could escape him he pulled you back in by your wrist, making shivers run up your arms.

"No, I wasn't gonna-" He smiles very kindly to you, making you feel warm, "I just wanted to ask you out for dinner, tonight... if that's ok?" A little smile crawls from the corner of your mouth.

He liked how you looked with that little smile in the corner of your lips, that little blush creeping up your cheeks, "Yeah, yes"

You both smile at each other very shyly but happily, you nod your head and slowly take a step back but he leans in, his arm wrapping around your waist, "Now that we're sober... is the kissing policy revocable? or..." You break into laughter and take a step closer to him, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You couldn't believe how just a simple little kiss on the lips could feel so electrifying, his lovely warm lips open to kiss you properly, he tasted the fresh cappuccino in your mouth with soft cinnamon in your breath, mixing with the taste of your lipstick. He tasted like black coffee and a cigarette bright and early in the morning, a mixture that makes one become an addict.

When you pulled back some blush creeps into your cheeks, "I'll see you later then..." You said.

"Last one before you leave" He pulled you in, giving you another soft kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip before your lips tore apart.

A/N

I'll be posting more of your requests soon! I love you all, and I've taken some time to make the playlists fitted for the chapters, some will be longer than the others but I hope you enjoy them all.

[sevsdollette]

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/137713357

content warning: trigger warning for violence against the reader. if mean men in bars freak you out, read with caution. other than that, alcohol, gambling, smoking, and smut (obviously). reader eats sevika out. fingering. sorry if you just want it to be sevika doing shit to the reader, but yk the woman has needs as well.

summary: You go out with Sevika as her gambling date. It’s a calm night at the Last Drop where everything should be fun and easy. But your beauty doesn’t just attract Sevika.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

3. A Gamble of A Night

note: tell me why every chapter title has the word night in it. i’m back @-@. so yeah it’s been a minute. hope no one is too mad at me. this one maybe a bit shorter than the others? not entirely sure. also i know this ends with like a cliff hanger, but i promise the next chapter will leave no holes in the time line. you gays will get what you want. sorry if there’s spelling mistakes i wrote most of this on my phone. it’s not like i’m an AP english student or anything (i am :/) also sorry for the format being a bit different. tumblr is pissing me the fuck off right now. i don’t care to fix the spacing between the paragraphs. i’m tired.

————————————18+————————————

The glow of the Last Drops neon sign felt a bit more familiar than before. This time, more than a drink was waiting for you inside.

It was a clear, hot night with busy streets and crowded alleys, and you were wearing a black catsuit with long sleeves and shorts that hardly covered your ass. The zipper down the front was pulled so low the clothes were practically falling off of you.

This time, when you walked up to the bouncer, past the long, impatient line, you hardly had to open your mouth before he was opening the door and letting you in. The groans and hateful stares of the people waiting felt like a crown on your head. You were still scum, sure, but for the night you were important.

On that evening, the bar wasn’t full of screaming patrons and blasting music, but slow, cool jazz. It was their calmest night where the low lamps gave off an orange-red glow on the deep wooden walls, and every shadow seemed comforting. People sat calmly at their tables, passing cards and taking shots. The ceiling hung low with the smoke of cigars and cigarettes. A sweet smell of booze wafted through the room, making any nasty smell of the people buying the drinks.

In her normal corner booth, Sevika was sitting with four men, cigarette pressed between her lips and cards in her hands. She was laughing lightly as she passed a card into the center of the table. The candle in the middle of the room illuminated her face and curved around her features. Beautiful, you thought, staring at her vibrant eyes.

As you waded through the tables of the room, she noticed you approaching, glancing over as the conversation at her table continued. Keeping an eye on you. You kept your cool, only giving a small smile back as you approached. Men of the bar kept looking up at your figure as you walked by their tables, admiring the way the leather suit curved over your hips and hugged your thighs.

The other men at the table were just as harsh and brutish as Sevika, all with scars over their faces or hands, rugged clothes, and a mean glare. They were younger than her but older than you, and they didn’t seem too friendly when you came up to the table.

One of them, with white blonde hair and a blind eye, wrinkled her nose as he looked you up and down. With a toothpick in his mouth, he questioned, “Who’s that?”

Sevika cleared her throat, looking down at her cards as she drew another from the deck. “I hired her.”

You froze, brow furrowing as your upper lip curled. Your services didn’t involve simple company at a bar. You surely didn’t want to be here if she was going to pay you for it.

She chuckled under her breath, looking up at you. “I’m kidding, doll. Sit down.” She tapped the spot on the cushion next to her.

Apprehensive, you sat beside her slowly. If this night was just going to be her being a bitch, you weren’t going to get involved. You could go back to Babettes and earn your dinner like always. You didn’t need her free food. And her expensive rum. And her perfectly rolled clove cigarettes…

The more you looked around the table, the longer you wanted to stay. You’d seen her and her men around the bar before but never noticed how nice of a night they always had. Each man was sitting comfortably around the booth with either a cigar, cigarette, or drink, lounging as they waited for the game to start. The loud music was slightly muffled, making the table almost cozy and closed off.

They were just finishing a game as you got there, a pile of coins in front of Sevika and dwindling collections by the other players. They were settling bets and getting more drinks, idle conversation as everyone got ready for another round. Sevika shuffled the deck and delt you your own hand.

You were sitting close to her, but just far enough away so you didn’t touch. A distance she would have to choose to close if she really wanted to. Yes, you liked her and wanted her attention, but you weren’t going to devote yourself to her to get it. If she really liked you, she’d take what she wanted.

And it didn’t take her long. As she was puting your cards down in front of her, she smiled and met your eyes. Her gaze drifted down your neck, chest, and down to your lap. She was close, her broad figure looming beside you enough to block your view of three of the men.

Her eyebrows raised. “You’ve got something on your neck.”

A heat hit your face as you rubbed the skin under your chin. God, you couldn’t look decent just once. “What is it?”

“Something I left for you.”

Your hands dropped and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

She smiled wider, shaking her head and sitting back. The tables was coming back together and everyone was picking up their cards as a waitress came around with more drinks. She had a glass for you and Sevika poured you some rum. The waitress smiled a bit too sweetly at Sevika when she said thank you, and it made you inch a bit closer to her.

You picked up your cards and sipped your drink. Rum was never your favorite, but in this setting, it felt right. Your deal wasn’t the worst, but you;d defitnety have to sit out for the round. You were trying to play your best.

At the brothel, you and your tolerable coworkers would play and gamble during slow hours all the time. Your room was the hot spot where everyone would crown around the coffee table, taking a smoke break, and having good fun. It was never that serious, everyone putting their earrings or hair clips in as prizes only to hand them back at the end of the game. But, there was a skill level that all of you developed.

And you were the best.

You all got through two games that Sevika won. She truly enjoyed it. A sly smile spread across her face as she collected everyone’s coins, only handing you a coy apology and running her hand up your though to make up for it. It didn’t matter to you. Your cards weren’t that good anyway.

Though, you liked the way she got when she was that happy. She was touchy. She would “accidentally” brush her hand over your tit, and she really liked to fiddle with that zipper that rested between your ribs. You’d push her away, saying something about how stupid she was being and how the alcohol was getting to her, and she’d give a boozy smile and turn to shuffle the cards again.

On the third game, you got a good hand. A really good hand. You kept your cool as you saw the empress and her court smiling up at your on the painted card. Every mention of a tell that your friends had mentioned to you ran through your head and you hid every sign. No one would know. You would win.

It took great thought to get through. Early on, Sevika noticed how much more focused you were, and it caused her to keep putting more money on the table. The men all had relatively bad hands except for one, but he backed out after a while, not trying to get in the middle of whatever mental battle you and Sevika were engaged in.

In the end, with the final turn of a card, you had won. With a huge pile of copper in teh middle fo the table, you whooped and bounced in your seat, grinning as you pulled all of the money towards yourself.

Sevika was angry. You could see it in the way she wouldn’t look at you adn how she stared into her empty glass. Her jaw was clamped tightly shut and she was thinking hard, still looking at the coins you’d taken from her. It wasn’t her fault. She hardly knew you, and she had expected you to be moer of an open book then your were. To be truthful, she dind’t know the half of who you were, and that was her fatal flaw.

Part of her still thougth of you as those prissy virgins she usually saw. It was hard for her to accept that she liked someone so similar to her own spiteful nature. She didn’t like it unless you two were naked, apparently.

She swallowed and shook her head. “I let you win.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Shut up.”

A fake laugh tossed itself from her lips and she held her hands in helplessness. “Just trying to be nice. If I beat you every time, you won’t enjoy it so much. There’s no way you can actually win.”

“Sevika—“ You scoffed, shaking your head at her as you wondered why she fucking bothered to say those things. “Whatever. I’m going to get a cocktail.”

She chuckled bitterly as you stood up. “Rum’s too strong?”

You held your middle finger up behind you as you stomped to the bar. Sevika muttered something else under her breath that you didn’t want to hear. The lively jazz that filled hte bar felt so suffocating now as you walked past a betting table thick with smoke. You didn’t need her pouting just because you won. It was supposed to be a fun night. Only a baby cried because they lost a stupid game.

You sat at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was a nice but nervous man who must’ve known who you were accompanying. He stuttered as he took your order and nearly dropped the vodka when he went to pour it. He was good at his job though adn your drinks as sweet with an after taste that stung your throat. You thanked him and made soem idle conversation, knowing that Sevika was watching you out of the corner of her eye.

You could feel the heat of her anger even from that far away. You planned on sitting at the bar for a little longer, let them play a game without you so she could get a win back under her belt. Maybe then she’d be nicer.

The bartender Thieram was a nice man who made you rlaugh once or twice as you sipped your drink. He was respectful. Most men either didn’t like you or liked you too much. It wasn’t often your found someone who treated you like a friend.

This fact was proven a few minutes later when a man steppe dup to the bar to order a beer. He was probably almost thirty with black hair graying on the sides and a long tattoo down her left forearm. He was ugly. But ugly in a way that some people found very attractive, though the second you stared at him for too long, he looked like an abstract painting.

You only glanced at him for a second before stirring your drink while waiting to talk to Thieram again. He had a deep, angry voice. After Thieram turned away, he stayed at the bar and leaned against it, turning to face you. “You alright, babe?”

You didn’t look up. “Who are you calling babe?”

“Just a pretty woman I see at the bar.” He chuckled. “I’m Leox.”

“And I’m not interested.”

None of your blatant signals got through to him. In fact, he stepped closer. Enough that you could smell the weed he’d been smoking. “Come on. You seemed kinda upset at your table. Why don’t you come and join mine? I’ll treat you real good.”

“Oh, will you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He leaned in, brushing your hair off your forehead. “I will.”

“Hm,” you hummed, closing your eyes as you pretended to enjoy his flirting. “Well…”

You pushed him away. “I’m still not interested.”

You only did men if they paid you for it.

The firm hand you placed on his shoulder withdrew only slightly before he gripped your wrist in place. For a brief moment your breath caught as he tugged you off of your stool and you were stumbling into him.

He grabbed your jaw firmly and pulled your face up to look at him. “Why couldn’t you just be nice? I know you’re just some whore. I could’ve paid well too.”

You jerked from his grasp, trying to turn around to get free and run out of there. He smelt awful and his breath was hot in your face. His teeth were yellow.

You were able to jam your heel into his toes, making him flinch so you could wriggle free, but as you were getting away, his foot caught under you and you fell to the ground. Your palms took the blunt of the pain as you scrambled to get yourself up.

As you pulled yourself to your feet, a heavy set of footsteps was storming past you and towards the man. In your panic, and with the moment being so quick, you hardly heard what she was saying to him—yelling at him.

You spun around, uneasy on your feet, and only saw their final interaction: Her fist against his face.

Once such a strong, intimidating man crumbled into a heap on the floor. Sevika stood over him, shimmer coursing through her metal arm and heavy breaths moved her shoulders, flexing the muscle. She turned around and you only saw the faint glint of purple in her eyes before she passed you again and ordered her men to take the guy out back. Teach him a lesson, she said.

The bar was silent. The woman humming low jazz was standing shocked beside her accordion player, the other patrons were trying to keep their gazes down, and Thieram was standing helpless behind the bar, terrified. You felt your face get hot as you stepped back subconsciously, your arms crossing and hugging your ribs.

Sevika was done barking orders and came up to you, pulling you back into the private room of the bar. The familiar place almost brought back amusing memories if you weren’t so upset.

She pulled you into her arms, examining you and making sure you were alright. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Shit like that happens all the time to me.”

She exhaled heavily through her nose and looked at the door. She must’ve been pondering whether to go help her men or not, but your hand on hip kept her there.

You two ended up sitting on the couch together sharing a cigarette. You were beside her with your legs rested across her lap and your head on her shoulder. She had her hand gripping your thigh and her metal arm wrapped over your shoulders.

You looked up at her face after a long drag and saw how tense her face was, how she didn’t seem to be moving an inch. Staring off into space with a firm furrow in her brow.

“Sev?” You frowned, brushing her stray hairs off her forehead. “Don’t be so upset. Everything’s okay.”

Sure, you were a bit shaken, but men were always like that to you. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to get used to. She’d have to understand that if she were to be around you.

She pursed her lips. “It’ll be okay as long as he gets what he deserves.”

You ran your thumb over the muscles of her collar. “Just try to calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

You sighed, understand the aggression wasn’t towards you. To be honest, you didn’t feel unsafe at all with her. Even though her eyes still sparkled violet when the lamplight caught it.

“Everything will be okay,” you assured. “I’m fine and he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. Relax, dear.”

Again you rubbed her collar and shoulder, your fingers trying to ease any tension she had. You leaned in to place a small kiss under her jaw, and as your lips brushed her skin, she held you tighter against her.

You kissed her neck again, lingering to drag your tongue over her in a way that made her sign and settle into the couch. The action spurred you on and you left another heavy kiss to her pulse point, making sure to leave proof that you did so.

You climbed into her lap and straddled on of her thighs, the right muscle fitting right against your clit. She let you tilt her head back so you could keep up your actions.

“What…”

A sly smile spread across your lips and you kissed below her ear. “Just trying to help you relax,” you cooed, a bit of mischief in your voice as one of your hands fiddled with the top button of her vest.

As you pulled the button free, her hand on your thigh got ever so slightly tighter and you remembered the shimmer in her system.

“Come on, Sev, don’t be so upset. Don’t let him ruin the night.”

You dragged your kisses down her chest, letting more of her buttons become undone until she was helping you pull her arms out of the sleeves and you tossed her shirt onto the other side of the couch.

She looked magnificent, curving muscle winding down her stomach, scars lacing her skin, and her breasts dark and nipples pebbled from the cold.

As you took the moment to admire her, she grabbed your ass and nudged you to keep going. You’d never expect her to be so lenient on letting you have control, but maybe she was trusting you more. Or maybe she just really needed to let some stress out.

Your tongue slid across her chest, lips finding one of her breasts for you to suck on. You twirled your tongue around her nipple, sucking it into your mouth and rolling it around your teeth. She moaned, gripping you hair and letting you grind on her thigh. It was a perfect mixture of giving and receiving, all of her grains sending shockwaves to your core and you reveled in the taste of her.

You wanted to taste more.

As you slid onto the floor on your knees, you dragged you hands down her thighs and then up to undo her belt. She was breathing heavily as you kissed down her stomach, enjoying the sensation of her muscle against your lips. You pulled her pants down with her underwear, wrestling them over her boots and letting them be lost somewhere in the room.

Adrenaline led you to avidly kiss down her thighs, licking over every inch on the insides as you got closer and closer to her core. You could tell her was ready for you, her hand gripped the back of your head, waiting to hold your mouth against her. You moaned as she tugged at your hair lightly, trying to get you to start.

You left a long kiss on her inner thigh, just an inch from her pussy befor turning to begin. Only, you stopped to look up at her flushed face as smile.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sev.”

The compliment was not taken happily. “I swear to god—you and that fucking mouth of yours,” She breathed, her pupils blown as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t like the teasing when it’s the other way around?”

“Just eat,” she huffed, pushing your face into her core.

It was hot and dripping, so ready for you. You lifted one thigh into your shoulder and spread her folds with your fingers. Her hairs were well kept and trimmed, brushing your nose as you dragged your tongue through her, tasting her.

She moaned, pushing your face further into her as you found her clit, flattening your tongue and coaxing over the bud. As you worked her up, you slid your fingers down and circled her entrance slowly, teasing it lightly.

Another heavy groan fell from her as she tightened her legs around your head. You could hardly hear her due to the clamp her thighs had over your ears.

Everything was so intense, the scent of her, the taste, the pressure of her legs, and the ughh grip she had on your hair. All you could do was kiss and lick her clit, enjoying the moment. It was so overwhelming you completely forgot any else that had happened that night.

You flicked her bud with the tip of your tongue, sucking on it as you slid two fingers into her.

It made her tense up and her head fell back over the back of the couch. She was desperate, holding your face so close and gently rocking her hips against your tongue as you fucked your fingers into her.

“Fuck, baby, don’t stop,” she demanded. You could sense her stress waning as she breathed deep and relaxed into you. You circled your fingers against her walls every time you pushed them in, sucking and licking her clit as you did so.

With your other hand, you pulled down the zipper of your suit and reached under the leather to find yourself. All of her heaving and moaning was too much for you to handle. The taste of her alone made you drip. You slid your fingers between your lips, finding your eager, swollen bud and stroking it.

You moaned against her, the vibrations making her gasp and you quickened your pace on both her and you. She was desperate, fucking heralded on your face bc had while you moaned against her clit and sucked. Rapid, intelligible words fell from her lips as she reached her high, curses and praised to you crescendoing into muttering whines as she came.

The pressure of her legs and your fingers rubbing over your clit was enough to get yourself there too. You cried out into her folds, the stimulation making her jerk as she came down from her high with you.

The both of you were breathing heavily as you crawled back up to her lap. She held you, sliding her hands past the unzipped front of your catsuit so she could feel your hot skin.

Your lips met in a messy clash or desperation. She dragged her teeth over your bottom lip as she made her grind your pussy against hers, the overstimulation making you both shudder.

Just as easily as you’d fallen into her kiss, she was pulling away and moving you off her lap. She set you down on the couch as she stood up, grabbing her clothes off the floor and couch to put them back on.

You sat up, anger and panick setting in. Did you do something wrong? “What—where are you going?”

She began to button her vest up, a grin sliding over her lips. “I’m taking you home.”

[biblical-chronicles]

Cigarettes & Alcohol (courage)

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where the reader just can't resist telling (or rather showing) Noel how she feels after a few drinks. The press also could not resist splattering the private moment across their front pages to remind the somewhat hangover reader exactly what happened last night.

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The pub was just the right kind of busy—crowded enough to feel alive, but not so packed that you couldn’t find a corner to unwind. The smell of booze, smoke residue and some lively chatter created a comforting buzz in the air. You were in good company, surrounded by your band mates and other industry friends. Yet, there was someone who made your stomach flutter in a whole another way: Noel Gallagher.

Noel had always been someone you admired from a distance, as many did. Only exchanging short words here and there as your mind could not handle much more when around him. His wit, undeniable talent, great looks, and overall attitude made it seem pretty much impossible. But tonight, after a few drinks, you realized just how easy it was to relax around him. 

The conversation flowed surprisingly naturally, the table was full of laughter. But it was when the group started discussing going outside for a bit of fresh air that Noel caught your eye and gave you a subtle nod.

"How about a quick smoke?" he said, his voice still thick with that distinct Mancunian drawl. "I could use a bit of air, and it seems like we’re all getting a bit too comfortable in here."

You raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "Sure, I’ll join you."

The others nodded, continuing their conversations, while you and Noel stepped out into the chilly night air. The street outside was quiet, save for the occasional car whizzing by. The city lights bathed everything in a soft glow. 

Noel lit up a cigarette, the flame of his lighter momentarily illuminating his face. He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around his face like a temporary veil. You couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked. The sharp blue eyes, the messy hair, the casual stance—it all came together in a way that felt almost timeless. It made you realize just how much you’d admired him, not just as a musician, but as a person. 

For a moment, you just stood there, quiet, letting the cool air settle into your lungs, your thoughts wandering. Noel wasn’t talking much, just lit your cigarette that you managed to fish out of your jacket, yet a comfortable silence lingered.

"Enjoying the view?" Noel asked, his voice breaking the stillness. You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at him. 

"Uh, yeah," you chuckled, slightly embarrassed, but he seemed to take it in stride.

"Don’t act so surprised," he said with a half-smile, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "I’ve been told I’m pretty easy on the eyes." 

You laughed, but something shifted in you—maybe the alcohol had hit you just right, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now. You’d spent so much of the evening trying to play it cool, but now... now you felt a quiet tension, an undeniable pull between the two of you. 

Noel took another drag from his cigarette, looking at you with a teasing smirk. "What’s up? You’ve gone so quiet all of a sudden."

You hesitated for a second, unsure of how to respond. You could tell he was slightly amused by your sudden silence, but you weren’t sure how to explain the way you were feeling. The truth was, your heart was beating a little faster, and the tipsiness from the drinks was starting to kick in even harder, making you feel a little braver.

"I’m just... thinking," you said, your voice quieter than usual, you just took a puff from your cigarette hoping to make it all less awkward.

"About what?" He took another drag of his cigarette, eyeing you curiously.

For a moment, you didn’t answer, your drunk mind still leaving you sort of still. Instead, you simply looked at him, really looked at him. The streetlights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the scruff that lined his chin. There was something so undeniably magnetic about him—his rugged handsomeness, his confidence, the way he carried himself.

Noel noticed you staring once again, his gaze shifting from the cigarette in his hand to your face. His expression softened slightly, the teasing grin now replaced with something more genuine.

"So, are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, or are you just gonna keep staring?" he asked, his voice more serious now, but still tainted by that signature edge of humor.

You took a deep breath, suddenly aware of how close he was, of how your senses seemed to be hyper-aware of everything—his scent, his presence. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just the moment, but whatever it was, it made you feel bold in a way you hadn’t expected. 

Without thinking, you reached out and cupped his face gently, dropping your cigarette in the process. Your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. His eyes widened for a split second, clearly taken aback by the sudden touch, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t second-guess yourself. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and pressed your lips to his.

It was brief at first, almost tentative, as if you were testing the waters, registering whether you actually did what you did. But then Noel responded—his lips soft and surprisingly warm against yours, as he deepened the kiss, the world around you seemed to vanish. The noise of the pub, the streetlights, the cold night air—all of it faded away as you kissed him again, this time with more urgency, more passion.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavier, your heart pounding. You didn’t say anything at first. There didn’t seem to be any need for words. The kiss had said everything.

Noel leaned his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he laughed softly. "Well," he said, still a little out of breath, "that was unexpected."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "Yeah" you whispered, feeling a bit shy now, but not regretting what had just happened. "I don’t know... I just—I’ve always admired you. And I think I might have been waiting for something like this for a while."

Noel chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "You’ve been admiring me, huh?" he said with a teasing grin, though his eyes softened with something that almost felt like affection. "Well, I’m not one to turn down a kiss. But next time, don’t make me wait so long."

You laughed, feeling a little lighter now, your nerves fading away. "Next time?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yeah," he replied, his voice low and serious now. "Next time. I think we need to see where this goes."

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "I think I’d like that."

After a moment, you both reluctantly headed back inside, the weight of the kiss lingering between you both, but neither of you speaking further about it. The rest of the night passed in a blur, and by the time you made your way home, you had no idea that the kiss you’d shared outside would soon be splashed across tabloids and magazines. 

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The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the pounding headache splitting your head and the sound of your phone ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the hazy remnants of sleep. Blinking in the dim morning light, you groggily reached for it, your head still a little foggy from the alcohol and the excitement of last night. 

"Hello?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

"Oi, wake up!" came the unmistakable voice of Noel Gallagher, cutting through the early morning haze (and your hangover). "You’re not still in bed, are you?"

You groaned, pulling the blanket up over your head. "I might be," you admitted, still half-asleep.

"Well, get up then," he said with a chuckle. "I’m at your door."

At that, you shot up, instantly more awake. "Wait, what?" You glanced at the clock on your bedside table—9:30 AM. Why was he here so early? And what the hell had happened last night? You barely remembered the details of the evening, aside from the kiss, the way he looked at you, and how the world had felt like it was just the two of you for a moment.

Noel’s voice came through the phone again, this time with a teasing edge. "I’ve got a little something for you. You should really come take a look."

"Okay, okay," you muttered, pulling yourself out of bed and stumbling toward the door. Your head throbbed slightly, but you brushed it off, trying to ignore the dizziness. As you opened the door, you were met with Noel standing in front of you, a cheeky grin on his face and a magazine held in his hand.

"Morning, sunshine," he greeted you, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I thought you might like to see this."

You raised an eyebrow, noticing the magazine cover first with you and Noel clearly on it. The headline blared something stupid alng the lines of: "Unexpected Kiss: Rockstar Duo Sparks Rumors After Late-Night Pub Snog!". Your heart sank slightly, a mix of confusion and embarrassment flooding over you.

"Wait, what... is that—" You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You were still trying to process the situation.

"Yeah," he said, his smirk turning into a small grin, "Seems like we’ve made the front page, love."

You stared at the magazine in disbelief, your angin brain trying to catch up with the reality of what had happened. First of all, you fucking kissed Noel, not that it was a bad thing, but it would've been nice to remember. And to top it off it was splashed across the tabloids for everyone to see? You ran a hand through your hair, your hangover preventing you from reacting in a strong manner.

"Well," you said finally, still in shock but trying to play it cool, "I should’ve remembered that, huh?"

Noel gave a low laugh, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "So you don’t remember much then?" he asked, his voice turning slightly defensive, though he tried to mask it with humor. "I mean, if you didn’t want it, we can just forget all about it. I’m not bothered. Just another night for me, yeah?"

You blinked, suddenly aware of the defensiveness in his tone. Of course, you’d been a little (a lot) tipsy last night, but that kiss had felt real—so real that you hadn’t even second-guessed it. You’d acted on impulse, on something genuine that you didn’t need to explain.

"No, that’s not it," you replied quickly, shaking your head. You could see the confusion and uncertainty in his eyes, and you didn’t want him thinking you regretted what had happened. "I just didn��t expect this to happen, you know?" You gestured to the magazine in his hand, trying to calm the air between you. "But that doesn’t mean I regret it."

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "You sure about that?"

You stepped closer to him, feeling a wave of boldness wash over you. The awkwardness from the magazine cover, the uncertainty in his eyes—it was all too much to ignore. You didn’t want him thinking you were backing out now. 

In one swift motion, you reached for his shirt, pulling him toward you and silencing him with a kiss. The magazine, the words, the paparazzi—it all faded away as you kissed him deeply, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer.

At first, Noel was still, caught off guard, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate, his arms circling your waist and pulling you in. His lips moved with yours, hot and urgent, as if he, too, had been waiting for this moment to unfold. 

When you finally broke apart, your breath was heavy, your heart racing. He was smiling now, his eyes still full of that mischievous glint. 

"Did you just… remind me?" he asked, his voice a little breathless, as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You laughed softly, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement. "Yeah," you replied, grinning. "I figured if I’m going to regret anything, it won’t be the kiss."

Noel raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on his lips.

You laughed again, still a little giddy from the kiss. "I’m serious, Noel. I still think you’re beautiful," you said, the words coming out more confidently now, with no trace of hesitation. "You’re... amazing. And last night made me realize I don’t want to be just staring at you from afar anymore. I want to be with you. For real."

His grin faltered for a moment, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to process it. Then he stepped back slightly, looking at you with a mixture of warmth and wariness. "Are you sure?" he asked, the playfulness in his voice replaced with something more vulnerable, more genuine. "Because, you know, I’m a bit of a handful. I don’t do things by halves."

You nodded, your gaze softening as you looked into his eyes. "I’m sure, Noel. I want to see where this goes. I don’t care about the tabloids, the rumors, or whatever anyone says. I just want you".

Noel smiled then, the tension lifting from his shoulders. "Well, in that case..." He took your hand, squeezing it lightly. "Guess we should start with a proper date, huh?"

"Guess so," you said, a smile spreading across your face.

"Alright, love," Noel said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and affection. "Let’s do it. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off easy now that we’re official, yeah? You’re stuck with me."

You grinned, a little in awe of the way he could switch from teasing to sincere in the blink of an eye. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

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Let me know if any of you lot enjoyed this and don't hesitate to give me any pointers. Also, the submission box is very much open xx

[whoishotteranimepolls]

One Piece, fandom, can someone explain to me the appeal of Shanks? At least to me, he comes off as the drunk guy on the beach who wasn't lying when he said he knew karate. Not to mention that I've seen some discussions that the Red Force probably smells like a frat house in the worst possible way, and the only person who knows where anything on that ship is is probably Beckman because he's the only responsible person on that boat. Let's be honest. They're probably right. Plus, I've read the nicknames and funny tags. At least someone thinks he's a walking STD risk, which I'm also pretty sure is true. He's definitely a total fuckboy, and apparently some people are into that. At least one person said they'd volunteer to be his baby mama. But I still don't understand the appeal. Now, onto the most significant issue do we have confirmation he bathes? Because I would be worried he might be pulling a Zoro. If he is pulling a Zoro, I'm just going to pray that Beckman can throw him in the bathtub or at least overboard because it's probably the closest thing he's going to get to a shower. Unless he's blackmailing him with embarrassing stories, he's threatening to tell Mihawk about it if he doesn't bathe. I could definitely see that as a possibility. If not, if you're his partner, you might have to do that unless you don't have a sense of smell, which I still think would be a requirement to live on that ship with Shanks. Because in between the smell of unwashed pirate booze and cigarette smoke, that sounds like torture. Hopefully, someone understands why. I just don't know why so many people find Shanks attractive. There are so many factors. Maybe as a one-night stand, he would be possibly worth it, but I'm not living on that ship

Defend Your Blurbo #12

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans.

Well, for everyone who doesn't know, this is Red Hair Shanks, The Captain of the Red Hair Pirates. They mentioned Beckman a lot. That's his first mate

And they are correct about the nickname in funny tags posts and what people said I double-checked. Here's the link

Have fun with this! One-piece fandom is not so much asking. Is he attractive? It's more. Can you live with this man and his crew in his floating frat house? So One Piece Fandom Defend your Blorbo